TMI Friday!

It's Friday again (well it is in Australia), which means two things for this Momma: Firstly it's time to link up to my bloggy friend Tropical Mum who lives Across The Pond (not the usual pond I'm talking about) with a bit of witticism and Mommy mirth. Secondly it's time to spread my knees (if you please) and let the Doc check out if the Little Miss is making headway - so to speak.     

Baby is 36 weeks old today, so the count down to push time is most definitely on. A spontaneous pants wetting episode at the start of the week had Momma thinking baby's bubble had burst - but after a bit of Googling and a call to the nurse practitioner I'm now pretty convinced my amniotic sac wasn't responsible for saturating my skivvies - or for the puddle on the bathroom floor. We shall say no more. Nevertheless I'm somewhat eager to get my cervix checked out today. It feels close.

Last Friday I had my first vaginal check this pregnancy, which started out with the somewhat invasive strep B test. After swabbing a pugil-stick inside my vagina (no biggy) and a chocolate starfish sweep (a touch more embarrassing), the Doc caught me completely off guard by politely asking if I wanted my cervix checking.

I've never been asked before. I thought it was standard procedure for the Gyno to get their hands dirty at this stage. I hesitated. It's easy for me to over-think these situations: Why did she ask me? Doesn't she want to check? Of course she doesn't - why would any woman voluntarily stick her hand up inside a stranger's vagina!?!  

I couldn't do it - much like waxing bikini lines for a living - dealing with my own vagina is plenty enough punani for me, thank you very much. Yes, I realize it's beautiful (yahda yahda)  just like a flower... 

What a crock! It's got to be one of the ugliest 'attractions' known to man but for some reason nearly every man on earth loves to leer at those ghoulish red creases. I just can't fathom how that and Beyonce can both be deemed beautiful! 

hmmm, rose or vagina?

Beautiful Beyonce

Of course I'm not complaining. There are many kinky kick-backs to having your man mad about your muff! 

It's a magnanimous mystery that mother nature should let men (and a few lucky ladies)  look upon our vaginas through rose tinted spectacles. Sadly I'd be a pretty poor lesbian - I'm sure I'm missing out.

But how game are the Gynos really? Surely they are gluttons for punani punishment - they must encounter a million muffs a day! And they chose this profession! Even the male docs must get vaginad out by the end of the day.

Friends' vagina Doc sums it up on his date with Rachel the waitress: "Okay, all right, well aren't there times when you come home at the end of the day, and you're just like, "If I see one more cup of coffee..."

Back of the bathroom door instructions for
collecting a clean midstream urine sample.

Much like our faces, each coochi must be different - of varying degrees of ugliness. And I'm guessing that muff maintenance and cleanliness is not always up to scratch (and sniff) - especially in this Texas heat. The Gyno-clinic must be humming like Grimbsy fish docks by mid-August!    

That's got to be the real reason behind the mid-stream (clean catch) collection instructions posted on the back of all the bathroom doors in the building. If I had to have my head hovering around vaginas all day long I'd definitely want to make sure all the ladies had thoroughly wiped their fannies first!  

I have to say, punani protocol when it comes to pap smears and giving birth has always been a bit of a quandary for me. For my first labor I went for the fairly normal 'bearded clam' approach - we're not talking a full on long beard here - more of a genital goatee. 

a  bit like this....

OK, perhaps not quite so straggly as Brad's chin pubes but hopefully you get the idea! 

Then the last go round I went all out with a bare muff! Don't be shocked - I was hoping for a bit of regrowth by my due date but the little man was eager to be outta my beaver.  

I'm curious about how all you other Mommas out there presented yourselves for your births? Did you trim, or shave, or wax? And if so, how much is too much? I mean - is a shaven haven a little sluttish for a birth? Or is it just sensible for vagina visibility? I realize back in the day there was little to no pubic preening - or leg shaving for that matter. A bit of rug burn on the way out must have been par to the course.       

When exactly did our feminine fringes become so unattractive? After all it's such a natural thing. But it's no longer just our pubic hair that's causing offence. All of a sudden our actual vaginas and even our buttholes have come to the attention of the beauty industry. A muddy starfish is no longer acceptable - not when you can peroxide that peripheral! The first I'd heard of butt bleaching was earlier this year. Then I stumbled across vajazzing - and I'm blown away. You can even firm up those flaps and give your labia a lift! 

Many years ago back in the UK there used to be a Friday night late show called Eurotrash that showed you all the wacky sexual eccentricities that our European neighbours were into - I remember one week it featuring a waxing salon that would shape your pubic patch into any pattern you wished and even tie in a bow if you so desired. The exclusive service had to be performed with the customer on all fours so that all the hairs in all the folds and crannies - butthole included - could be accessed easily for a clean wax!   

No longer an obscure fettish, vajazzing is getting to be a trendy business! Has the world gone mad or is it high time we put a bit more vigilance into vajazzing our vaginas? We've been making-up our faces for centuries now, and we're all happy to fancy-up our feet - what's so wrong with garnishing our gashes for the guys? After all, don't we want it to look good enough to eat?

Are our fellas behind this push for beautifying our bits - or are other women behind this new fangled fancy? 

Perhaps the OBs have orchestrated it all! 

So, back to last week; I'm laying back trying to think of England with only a swift uneven shave of my bikini region to show for my vaginal efforts. Should I have dressed up down there?    

     

I was dying to know if baby girl's head was down, but it seemed a little forward to eagerly reply; "Yes, please!" so I tried to muster a casual (and very British); "If you wouldn't mind.." 

It's not the most pleasant experience, having a hand reaching right back to your cervix - in fact sometimes the Doc's probing can be pretty painful. Trying to maintain my dignity, I've always endured these internal exams without wincing, and usually I prattle on about something irrelevant - making out like I don't even notice that her hand is stuffing me like a Christmas turkey! 

All the while I'm thinking about those poor cows who often have a vet's arm - sometimes both arms - stuck inside all the way up to their elbows! And inevitably I cant help my unruly thoughts flitting to the pornographic practice of fisting for fun - I mean WTF? 

Even after two vaginal births - two fingers pushing against the back wall of my vagina is enough to make my eyes water - I can't conceive of how a clenched fist could be physically possible, let alone enjoyable! If the poor OB could read Momma's messed-up mind wanderings I'm sure she'd have security remove me from the building!!

I got the info I was wanting: head down (you go girl!), 50% effaced, 1cm dilated, everything feels soft.

Basically we're good to go! So now I have to figure out how I want my hooch to look for the actual birth. It's kind of like deciding whether or not to go for an up-do for your wedding day, only a much smaller group of folks will actually get to admire the handiwork. 

I've been playing about with the idea of watching the birth through a mirror this time around, so I can see the crowning glory for myself. Perhaps for performance purposes I'll be better able to push if I'm proud of my preened punani - a bejeweled box with bows might be a tad bit distracting for Momma, although what a way for my little diva to make her way into the world!

Talk about making an entrance! 

What do you think ladies (and I'd love to hear what the gents have to say on this hairy issue also)? We've talked about waxing our tashes - how about waxing our asses?!

Keeping your hedges trimmed....

Daddy and our eldest son were happily splashing away in the river, and Mommy - having just pulled a chair up to the far side of the paddling pool in order to keep an eye on our napping nipper - took advantage of the opportunity to get my feet wet.

It was a somewhat vein attempt to cool my constant 'cupcake' cooker down....

The early afternoon sun was just starting to get brutal, and although I'd managed to slap sunscreen on Daddy and big kid before they bounded down to the water, both Mommy and sleeping babe were still unprotected.

I hadn't wanted to wake baby - and anyway, we were both - mostly - in the shade of two large oaks. I was, however, starting to feel a few rays find me through the branches.

We'd taken both kids out to a place called the Landing; a stunningly idyllic local spot with rare kid-friendly river access, which was fortunately owned by a family that had fostered my husband for a couple of his teenage years.

We'd been intending to bring the boys out here for ages, only finally making it happen for the first time today - not the most relaxed and quietest of days to cram in a river trip!

Yesterday, my hubby broke up for summer vacation, so he had to attend the Graduation ceremony this morning. Summer school is scheduled to kick off next Tuesday, but still, life's hectic pace should get a little steadier over the next few months.....

Who am I kidding?

We almost didn't make it out to the Landing today. After this morning's superhero birthday shindig (there's usually one every weekend these days) our youngest crashed out cold the second I clipped his seat belt together. No joke, I've never seen him fall asleep so fast before! Daddy laughed out loud incredulously, when I told him to look back.

Daddy had come out to meet us for a belated burger - and just in time to witness the party pandemonium. All the superheros had started a scream-off...  awesome. But they'd obviously exhausted themselves and we were rewarded with a tanked-out toddler.

So we were pondering on whether to go or forgo our visit to the Landing again - I could have easily gone home and crawled back into bed, but the heat of the day had the water beckoning - and Daddy hadn't seen his foster family in almost a year....

What the hell! At the very least, we could swing by and say a quick 'hi' to my hubby's adopted kinfolk and while we were at it, check out what we were missing........

I'd thought our eldest might fall asleep too - but his keen batman ears had picked out the word 'swim' from his parent's conversation, and so there was no way our wee water rat was going to miss out on that!

As it turns out we've been missing a lot!

The Landing,
Old Glory Ranch

The Landing is a gorgeous spot, and our big kid was ecstatic about getting to splash and swim in such a little slice of heaven. There was also a huge hammock begging for our bairn to be stretched out on....

I wasn't phased too much by this somewhat tricky transfer - he was dog-tired, comatose and as floppy as a jellyfish. I laid him out on his back, in the middle of the stars and stripes hammock - and happily he remained in the land of nod without making a peep!

I would have loved to have snuggled up beside him, but we would have needed a crane to lift Momma up high enough and into position beside baby. It was one of those flat hammocks - with wooden bracing either end keeping it stretched out... also making it easier to flip......

Our little one looked to be nestled safely in the middle.. sort of... although the drop was a little too far to have Mommy at ease..

After an hour or so I saw him open and close his eyes - seemingly happy to be napping alfresco in completely strange surroundings. I thought he'd resigned himself to going back to sleep, when suddenly he rolled on to his front, attempting to scramble to his knees - and boy did this Momma move.......

I didn't know I could hustle my preggo load so fast - and just as that flippin' hammock was ready to rudely tip my snoozy snuggle bug, I caught him safely in my arms.

Phew! All eyes had been on the rescue.

I don't think he'd been intending to escape his precarious crib - more likely he'd been just hoping to get himself into a favored front, knees-up sleep position.  He was definitely awake now though, and ready to meet everyone. But even more ready to get into the river....

Time was getting on, and big kid wasn't going to be able to skip his nap altogether - the tell tale signs of a tired toddler were starting to break through.

Managing the ship-out mission without letting our littlest get in the water was not really the road either Daddy or Mommy wanted to take, but two toddlers in the water might prove that little too much for even super Daddy to tackle.

So a super hot Momma went to hide behind a fat oak tree to pull on my 'just in-case-we-go-to-the-river' swimming costume, when the awful realization dawned on me that I hadn't tended to my bikini line in as long as it takes the grass to overgrow...

Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.

What was I going to do? With my baby belly in the way I couldn't see the damage - but I knew that what we were dealing with wasn't pretty - and I'm not the kind of fine haired dainty blonde lady that could get away with a little free-styling fluff escaping from my swim knickers. There was absolutely no way of masking my monstrous minge mayhem!

I couldn't let my hubby's kinfolk see me like this.. could I? All the worst hairy fanny ice-breakers were flying through my head - but fortunately I dismissed them all. They just wouldn't work - I didn't know these people well enough. And my poor hubby would be horrified!

It's not the first time I've been caught out like this with a public pubic predicament! I was preggo the last time too - out at the lake-house with more of my husband's family - without a rescue razor for miles. You'd think I'd be a bit better prepared by now!

The fleeting thought occurred that maybe I could get away with it.... I am European after all...

But unfortunately there was a fellow British broad out at the Landing with us, looking all lovely and sleek without a stray strand of body hair in sight.......

Damn.

So instead I abandoned the river plan, and pretended I'd forgotten my swim skivvies, and luckily super Daddy managed to distract both boys in the paddling pool. But that was only a temporary measure and before long their sights were again set on the river and rapids just out of reach.....

Fortunately, the sleek and hairless Brit took pity on our predicament (without knowing the enormity of it) and offered to take a toddler to get wet. Thank you compatriot!

We're going swimming again tomorrow - and with Mommy unable to see down there - Daddy's volunteered to take on extra 'hedge trimming' duties tonight...! I don't think he'll be complaining though.

With Daddy at the helm - his new beard shears in hand - I think it likely more of the haven is destined for a shavin'...........