Mother-Daughter Bonding

Last night Victor and I were talking about labor (the kind that produces a baby) and joking (or he better have been) that he'll ask the doctor to add a few extra stitches in my girly bits for his enjoyment. Or, he suggested, I could just do lots of certain exercises to keep things nice and snug.

And then I had a flashback to my childhood. I was probably 4 or 5, still young enough to let my mama in the bathroom with me. I was on the toilet and every few seconds she would say "stop!" or "start!", sort of like my high school basketball coach would while we did push-ups when she was pissed at us. Which was a lot. But anyway, my mama was not referring to me doing calisthenics (because that would be wrong) (although, not nearly as wrong as the truth), she was telling me to stop and start my urine stream.

Internet, my mama was teaching me KEGALS! When I was in preschool! If memory serves correctly she told me practicing this exercise regularly was very important for women. Let the males say "amen!"

Now, my mama is very naive and there is a possibility that she was only encouraging me to develop fine bladder control without even considering the other uses of these exercises. But if not? I can only imagine her thinking that if I followed her advice I'd have a very happy husband. I'm not sure that is what was meant by the whole "women teach your daughters" thing.

Seven Words No One Ever Wants to Hear Their Mother Say

"I put some videos of myself online."

And if that's not bad enough..."wanna see?"

My mama, like me, loves to sing. But unlike me who limits singing to serenading my steering wheel, bar of soap, and husband (not at the same time), she has subscribed to a karaoke web site. The site has the music to lots of songs so the user can record themselves singing the words for all the Internet to hear. And now? She has a web cam. So she can exhibit both her vocal prowess as well as her mad dancing skills.

Or...something.

We're on the phone and she encourages me to watch her latest video in which she has discovered that she can TURN THE CAMERA to face somewhere other than the computer chair. (Isn't technology amazing?) So she doesn't have to limit her dancing to bobbing her head and swaying in her chair. No, she can stand up and have unrestricted movement. Except, the camera doesn't move with her. It's just not that smart. Or else it is that smart and it is trying to minimize the pain inflicted on the viewer.

Yes, the pain. From being doubled over in laughter for the duration of the song.

Picture a woman in her mid-fifties who is wearing a nightgown with un-"done" hair and no makeup. Also, no bra. Singing (but not really because she is no longer facing the computer screen that has the words) "Working my Way Back to You". (I'm not 100% sure this song was the correct one. I have mortification-induced amnesia). At the beginning of the video she isn't sure where the camera is pointing so the only thing you see is one (unbridled) boob (behind the nightgown, obviously). Eventually she backs up and so you can see my mama in all her glory. She starts looking bored with the simple swaying and so she tries out a number of in-place dance moves. Finally she decides to stick with what she knows and begins walking in place like she does during her aerobic walking video. There's some simple marching and some "single, single, double" patterns.

I, still on the phone with my mama during the viewings, try to give compliments to her dance moves and artistic license (including altering the video so you only see her outline in neon green as she sings "It's My Party") while wiping the tears from my face. Meanwhile Victor can't decide whether it is most prudent for him to leave the room, die, or stare in wonder at what he fears his wife may become. Behold, my husband, your future.

As we were getting ready for bed Victor says, "You know, everyone should be more like your mama."

Ignorance

When I was four my mama gave me this book:

Internet, there are pictures of HAIRY FAT NEKKID people in this book. Having SEX! This book gave all the facts of life in a "nonsense"-free way, as is advertised on the cover. Besides the basic facts of baby-making and delivering, I also learned that sex feels really good but you can only do it for a short period of time lest you become overwhelmed.

Or something.

My mama was very upfront about anatomy, puberty, and sex when my brother and I were kids. As a result, we knew a lot more about these things than our friends. I was always surprised to hear friends make comments that were obviously NOT CORRECT, (I was very keen on the CORRECT as a child) whether it be a nickname for their girly bits or a vague reference to storks.

Now that I spend time on a babies-related discussion board I am still shocked by some adult women's complete lack of knowledge about the reproductive process. Questions like:
Can I take birth control so that I don't get pregnant even though I already am pregnant?
Can you be pregnant and still get a period?
I had sex yesterday and today my boobs hurt: could I be pregnant?

I'll confess that part of the reason I love this discussion board so much is because of the crazy questions we get sometimes. And the carnage that always follows. But it's still shocking to me that such ignorance can be perpetuated.

And so the other day when I was telling my mama about an especially ridiculous question on the board.
Me: I can't believe how little some people know!
Mama: Well, until [her best friend] had a baby (when my mama was 21) I thought that babies came out of your butt instead of the other side.
Me: (stunned silence)

Thank goodness for sex ed. Otherwise I'd have to question everything my mama taught me.

The First Two Week Wait

So here we go friends. Settle in for two weeks (okay face it, I'm going to test at 10 days past ovulation) of being hyper aware of everything in my body. Even though Fertility Friend hasn't given me crosshairs yet, I'm fairly certain that I ovulated on Sunday. So I should know for sure if this cycle was successful by Father's Day weekend and I can't think of any better way to celebrate than to shove a urine-soaked pee stick in Victor's face.

Of course, if I'm not pregnant I'll celebrate by having debilitating cramps and then drinking heavily.

Sounds fun, no?

Victor is leaving for a work trip to Italy today, so I'll be a single gal until Sunday. I hate when we leaves, but I try to make the best of it by indulging in my single gal behaviors like eating mushrooms, dancing to loud Madonna music, and busting out the old guitar and singing.

I suck at the guitar. SUCK.

In other news, my prospects for being a sane older woman are looking dim. At the beach I played (and kicked ass at) Upwords with my parents one night. While my mama was thinking of her next play she says "that's okay honey". Huh? I asked who she meant. "Oh, I was just talking to myself."

My mama calls herself honey, Internet.

She verified it as my dad shook his head grimly.

Here's hoping I inherited my mental health from my dad.