Yes, I’m going to be mentioning that monthly visitor in this post – Aunt Flo, Dot, red-headed friend, “friend”, period, menses, whatever your pleasure.
OK, show of hands: how many of you remember watching your mother take care of bathroom business when she had her period (my word-of-choice) when you were oh, say, four? Or seven? OK, any age at all? [Scans crowd. Hmm, it’s hard to count from here.]
Well, I’m here to tell you that I have absolutely no recollection of my mother being a “woman” while I was growing up.
My children, however, seem to be quite well-versed on the topic. Not because I’ve taken the time to educate them, but because they won’t leave me alone! I get followed into the bathroom (or any room, for that matter) and have become way too accustomed to an audience when dealing with the flow.
I have been using the Diva Cup for about 8 months now, and Krystal especially loves to say it, as in “Are you using your Deeeeva Cupppp?” in a lovely sing-song voice. Belle loves to get me fresh pantiliners, even on days I don’t need them.
I suppose, since they are girls and will be dealing with this first hand in fewer years than I’d like to think, that this isn’t such a bad thing. But I am looking forward to having time to myself in the bathroom.