I have PMS. Seriously. I have it to the point that in my complete and utter bitch session about it to ShaNaNa, she suggested I get some Midol, that it may help. The following is our conversation:
ShaNaNa: Dude you should get some Midol, it will help.
QT: That shit doesn’t work dude, no way.
ShaNaNa: Get the blue pills, they will help! The blue ones work for me.
QT: Seriously? I’m just totally completely bitchy, are they really going to help?
ShaNaNa: They may. It can’t hurt.
QT: Okay maybe I’ll give them a try.
So that morning, I head off to CVS and stare at the Midol section, finally finding the blue pills she suggests. As I’m standing there, bitchy as all hell, staring at the thousands of different kinds of PMS pill, I finally find the stupid blue ones and buy them. I get to work and open the box, to see the pills that are wrapped in packaging similar to this:
Now can someone explain to me why the hell anyone would wrap these pills in packaging so damned HARD TO OPEN? I freaking wrestled with these pills for half a freaking hour, as well as trying to stab them with scissors of hope of opening them, and maybe once I threw them down in a fit of um, ya know, rage … just simply trying to get them out of the damn package. Let’s just say, by the time I swallowed them, with Googlie and Twitch looking at me like I was insane, they had already made the bitchiness of my PMS worse! Seriously MIDOL People, what the hell are you thinking?
Another thing that I’m frustrated with (and this is all month long) is my bathing suit. Okay maybe not so much the SUIT but more so how I look in it. I am reposting something I once wrote forever ago …
Oh the horror of swim suits. The single thing that can make this mama go from a confident happy woman to feeling like I’m in 9th grade again, trying to fit in. Let’s pretend for a moment shall we?
I’m in the dressing room and I find a PERFECT suit. You know the one I mean. The color is fabulous on me, it makes my boobs perky and happy again; and of course, shows a perfect amount of cleavage that everyone who looks at me will find completely sexy. It makes my butt and hips look SMALL. It even somehow camouflages the … Ugh … bit of cellulite that came to visit a few years ago and has yet to return to the evil place it came from. I tell you what – if I ever found this suit? I don’t care if it cost 2 billion dollars, I’d buy it. On the spot. Remortgage my home. Sell a few eggs, I don’t care. I’d BUY IT.
Now let’s return from La La Land and back to reality. Facts: I carried a baby for nine months who laid transverse in my stomach until 8 months. I gave birth to said child, without drugs! Go me. I breastfed and pumped my poor breasts until they were I’m sure, resembling my grandmothers breasts on her deathbed. I admit freely that I carry weight in my hips. I have the … what does Wingman call it? Hourglass shape. I’ve always had larger breasts and wider hips. And a small waist. Jeans, pants, etc that fit my hips? Never fit my waist. I have scars on my stomach from a small amount of skin cancer that was found there and needed to be surgically removed. I believe I have, *sigh*, stretch marks from having Emilee. Not a lot, but definitely … two. Perhaps three. I am thirty freaking six and while I can hide certain things in the clothes I choose to wear, these same things are not able to be hidden in a bathing suit dammit! And so, with a combination of horror and shame, I get into my swim suit every weekend for my daughter, who loves going to the pool. But I also get into it with this notion: Being thirty freaking six has also brought me some clarity as well. I am who I am. I have what I have. I accentuate what I have to the best of my ability. I do not hate my body, because really, what good does it do? If you like me, then you’re gonna have to like ALL of me: breasts, stretch marks, cancer scars and hips included. And if you don’t? Well, then … my life will go on.
And lastly, you know what helps ALL of these issues I have?
VODKA. Regular and Pear.
Mmmmmmm ….
Glad to report that today I woke up feeling a helluva lot better. Thank the Good Lord.
I like all of you.
*blush*
Oh Jim, you’re my sweetheart!
Right there with ya sista.
I call my stretch marks “tiger stripes”… or I tell my girls that I have them because the kids tried to claw their way out of me. Do you think that will ruin them for life?
And yeah, Midol better be thankful that they don’t get stormed by a swarm of crazy PMS ladies with scissors. Not that I’ve ever thrown scissors in a fit of PMS rage.
Nope. Not me.
*whistles innocently*
I posted about my PMS last month and the “Emotional Tourettes” that comes with it.
http://singlemommindy.blogspot.com/2009/06/pms-emotional-tourettes.html
Friggin hormones…
I hear ya on the “hourglass” thing too. Jeans never fit me in the waist if they fit my hips/bootie – even when I was 8!
Vodka does help but the Midol? Notsomuch
I stopped reading half way down.
It’s just that…I started to feel the urge to call you and say, “Eeehhhhhhhh, quit yer bitchin’.”
*duck*
-R.
Yeah RE, you sound like someone else I know.
Aw, c’mere. I hug you. I hug you so tight and remind you that you are special. And that God just hasn’t made a bathing suit to do those legs justice. hug hug hug.
MUAH Cookie.
You know I loves me some RE.
I completely understand the hips. I couldn’t get jeans to fit my waist even when I was 18 years old and weighed 95 pounds.
And don’t get me started on the pms!
Glad you’re feeling better.
Premsym PMS. It’s the ONLY thing that works for me.
You know what, you’re body “imperfections” are souveniers of a life you’ve lived. They are evidence of you choosing those things that meant more to you, such as having your child, or evidence of your strength, such as fighting cancer. Rock it sister.
Maybe 3 stretchmarks? You aint got my pity. Try having oh, maybe, 53!
But I do like your clarity: I have what I have. I am what I am. That rocks.
LOL…is you having PMS the reason you snapped at me on my own blog? Jeez, QT…I’m here every bloody day. I just don’t comment every day, is all.
Trust me…this is absolutely on my must-read list.
So having said that, I’m very happy to know you woke up feeling better this morning.
I didn’t snap at you silly! I was teasing you!
Dear QT: If there isn’t already a QT-fan-club (which is difficult to imagine), I’d like to start one. However one goes about such an endeavor. I’ll google it and get started right away.
You are too funny!
Dear Syd,
Dude. I’d totally join that fan club!
*Laugh*
-QT
Eeeesh. I hear ya on the PMS. Lord, do I hear you. One of the benefits of the long distance thing for CBG and I is he’s never had to put up with me through one of my ‘episodes’. Blind hormonal rage doesn’t translate nearly as well via email as it does in person.
heh.
Glad to hear you’re feeling better.
My guess is the packaging was designed by a dad going though a custody battle. Now how dumb is that guy. Should want calm and cramp free. I need to smack that guy upside the head!
Ok you have 3 stretch marks? I had my son when I was 21 and although my stomach didn’t get any I have them all over my butt and some on my legs… I was 21!! ugh but what are you going to do? now being 26 year old single mom of two I finally learned that putting a bikini on means not looking in the mirror too long.