Beware the vagina apocalypse

GAAAAAAA…….it’s starting!

Vagina gate has officially entered our household.  

It was actually really appropriate that the first blog that I read this morning was Oh Noa’s blog (Vagina Pinata's) about throwing  a party when your daughter travels that mysterious road from being a cute little elementary school kid to one that is “swollen with evil, starts rotting, and the devil then takes them as a toxic vessel for his purpose”  

Otherwise known as the trip from girl to “womanhood”. 

AWW Baby

Last night, my 9 year old (almost 10) started screaming in the shower.  As I made a mad dash up the stairs screaming, “What’s wrong, what’s happening!!!”  I get to the door and hear this, “OMG 

(she actually says O-M-G) 

Mom, I have HAIR on my pee-pee!  I am thinking to myself, pffttt right….it’s just those soft downy baby hairs that most of them have all over their bodies.  You know, the cute stuff that makes them look all angelic and sweet and young.  No…it wasn’t.  It was a very sparse chemo kitty collection of wiry dark hair that has cropped up all over her crotch. 

I drew a picture of chemo kitty below for you all!

I am not ready for this, I am just not.  I am too young, I am too pretty, I am too afraid that they will cycle along with me and we will tip the balance of the universe with our axis of evil bitchiness.  

This will then catapult my younger daughter to rapidly enter the realm of “womanhood” and bring about the apocalypse with her menstrual anger.   I can barely contain myself, how the hell am I going to cope with the holy trifecta of gangsta vaginal anger?

What will selling cookies be like next year??

It’s bad enough that she has boobs.  Little baby booby lites that need trapping in a band aid bra, which I have to admit that I tell every family member just to cement her teenage angst against me.  

Oh, Auntie Lauren, did you see that Baby Girl has boobies now?  Aren’t they just so cute…quick baby, raise your arms so that everyone can see how cute your little boobies are!

Of course, I am exaggerating (kinda, sorta….umm…yeah)  and is it not bad enough that I have to remind them about personal odor and wiping.  But now, I have to instruct them on the use of tampons and the importance of cleaning the massive bloody mess that your crotch becomes during this time??  I can’t even get them to wipe their asses!

purchase by the case baby..by the case

I will need wine, fuck that shit, I will need ever clear to withstand this Def Con Monstration.  

And no, I will not be throwing a red tent party. 

Oh yeah, if you got any HABO (Help a Bitch Out) advice…..I wouldn’t turn you down.

SOB, SOB, SOB

I DON'T KNOW...OK!!!!

IDK…I don’t know.

Usually, I hate this phrase.   Growing up, we weren’t allowed to say this phrase in our house, at least, around my Dad we weren’t.  I don’t know wasn’t acceptable.  It was acceptable to say that you are unsure of the answer, but you would find out and get back to him. 

It’s kind of how I am in my work life; I never tell someone that I don’t know.  It makes me feel weak and unsure, instead, I skirt around the subject.  I say that I haven’t seen anything like that before, or I am un sure of how that operates, but I will get back to them and let them know the answer.  Then like a mad muthafucker, I run around until I find someone who is WAY smarter than me that can help me figure out the answer.  (Typically, that’s not hard)

Having children….aww…fuck….I don’t know.

See, I recently came to the realization that scared the bejesus out of me.  I just realized that I am my parents and my MOM is now the Grandma.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS??  DO YOU….DO YOU…..

It means that our world is D-O-O-M-E-D and the Apocalypse is definitely coming.

If my children have to rely on me and my generation to have all the answers to their questions, we are up the douchecanoe without a paddle. I harken back (you know to yesteryears, when we wrote on stone tablets and hunted for our food, I swear to God, this is what my daughter thinks it was like when I was growing up)

Digressing…Anyway, I harken way back, to when my parents were throwing parties or the gatherings that we had with families, and all of my questions could be answered.  

And holee guacamole, I threw out some doozies….

”What is the formula for photosynthesis??”  I would ask, some adult would answer 6CO2 + 6H2O - Energy in Sunlight - C6H12 + CO2

 “What types of clouds are there??”  My grandfather would answer, “Well, now when I was flying, I have seen cumulus, stratus and cirrus clouds, and the Northern Lights too…Did I ever tell you……”  SIX HOURS LATER

Or who the hell is in pictures?  Can you remember Great Aunt Minnie’s second cousins’ daughter’s husband who left her for Cousin Willie’s third wife?  And who the hell is holding me again while I am naked?  Jesus, did you need to let me run naked with the dogs?

Or would you ever know that Chicken Kiev and Chicken Fricassee were depression era dishes?   

Or that you should always check books and ceramics for cash?  Because that is where my grandparents hid spare money that they didn’t put in the bank. 

So here I stand…..and my children look up at me expectantly, with stars in their eyes, and breath held, waiting for me to dispense the all-consuming knowledge.

I DON’T KNOW……I DON’T KNOW DAMNIT….MOMMY JUST DOESN’T KNOW…OH…OH..QUICK…LOOK AT THE ELEPHANT…..(I run away)

I don’t know why Barbie wasn’t made with three holes?  Maybe they just didn’t want her to leak?

I don’t know why they don’t make beds for jumping anymore!

I don’t know why that man is yelling in the street at his quarter?  Maybe it jumped out of his pocket?

Yes, black people were at one time slaves, and No I don’t really know why this happened (at least I don’t want to get into a full discussion of why it happened) And NO, you CAN NOT ask your little friend at school if any of her relatives were slaves. Yes, I know… Yes, I know…but you just can’t.

Yes, I know that girls have vagina’s and boys have penis’s, and yes, they do come in all shapes and sizes, and no, let’s just, let’s just talk about this in a minute, let Mommy put down her work bag.  No, I cannot show you pictures on the internet.  (HUBBY…Dear Sweet BABY Jesus…HUBBBBYYY…..Get me the BIG GLASS)

No, I will not “Google” every question that you ask me.  And no, you cannot have my phone to Google yourself.

What happens when you die…?  Can you not ask me this question at 5:30 a.m. when Mommy hasn’t had her cup of coffee yet?

Are Ghosts, Mermaids and Vampires real?  Well, I have never met one, so I really can’t say if they are real or not.  Yes, I am sure that you are right and you totally saw that mermaid in Hawaii. 

Sob…gasp…sob….why can’t I be as cool as smooth as my parents and grandparents?  

My kids are doomed.

They're BAAAAACKKKKKKK.........

My girls have been visiting their grandparents (respectively) until last night.  And until last night…..

all was good. 

You see, I thought it would be a good idea.  One child goes with one grandparent and one child goes with another, so they each get quality one on one time and get a break from each other.  

Until I got the first phone call…..

Awww.......aren't they cute (NOT)

Me:  Hello Sweet Baby

AB#1:   Mommy, what is Grammie’s number so that I can call sissy?

Me:  Why do you want to call sissy??  Enjoy your Grandpa time

AB#1:  Because I miss her and want to talk to her.

Me:  (Inside ma head…WHAT THE FUCK) Umm, ok, call Grammie on her cell phone.

And now, fast forward to yesterday afternoon……and a call from the Nanny

Nanny:  Jana, what time will AB#1 be coming home, we are sitting outside.

Me:  WHATTT??

Nanny:  Yes, AB#2 has decided that we need to sit outside and wait until AB#1 gets home.  So for the past hour and a half we have been sitting in the driveway waiting for her.  And when I finally called quits on that, we had to wait on the stairs inside the house with the front door and window open, so we don’t miss her.

Me:  (Dying Laughing) Umm…sorry Nanny

And then……when they finally meet….

AB#1:  No, you be quiet, you are so mean…I am going to tell Mom!

AB#2:  Sobbing….so you are so mean…get out of my way….why you push me around….MOOOOOMMMMM

AB#1:  Agh…OOOFF…MOOOOMMMMM……..she pushed me

AB#2:  MOOOOMMMMMM

AB#1: No, MOOOOMMMM….she is lying

AB#2:  I called her first…. (insert various shrill screams)

Me:  Getting out the red cup to fill up!

So after they passed out and were slightly detoxed from all of the spoiling.  

Hubby and I went in the hot tub, I appropriately armed with my red solo cup filled to the brim with wine and Hubby (the good little boy) brought his water cup.  Which, I would like to say was promptly slurped by one of the dogs.  My wine…..those dogs will not touch for fear of MY WRATH.

Yes, he is a cute silver lab.......but that mouth eats poo

So my night ended like this……

Girls are home, all nestled in their beds with the balance of power restored…….Yes

Hubby and I got to have some alone time in the Hot tub time machine……….Yes

Sex complete and ready for sleepy time BEFORE 11 p.m.…………..FUCKING PRICELESS