Chewing The Fat Post Gyno Style

It's been a bit of a strange week this week, full of highs and lows, triumphs and the usual humiliations.

Who am I kidding, that’s really just a normal week around here, nothing THAT far out of the ordinary.

I’m actually sitting in a cafe at the moment with a bit of time to kill so I thought that perhaps we could chew the fat for a while, if you’re up for it of course.

I have just come from the Gynos office where I was getting my faulty lady bits attended to, and now I am suffering with quite possibly some of the worse cramps ever.

The cramps haven't been caused by the biopsy or the poking around in my hooha. Nope, they are merely a consequence of me holding one too many farts in for the past hour.

I was all prepared this morning. I had my shower right before my appointment so I was at my peak ummm freshness – everyone does that right? But as I was walking into the clinic, my bum decided to make itself known and let out a little meep. And then again with the insistent meeping as I gave my name to the receptionist.

Mortified, I sucked my gut in and took a seat in the waiting room among all the other women.

Now if I may digress just for a moment, have you ever noticed how women naturally cross their legs in the gynaecologist's office? Seriously 5 out of the 6 women (including the receptionist, all had their legs crossed).

That’s more than a coincidence right?

I too had my legs crossed, but for different reasons - I was desperately trying to hold the farts in. I could feel them backing up and every time I could feel another one coming I would suck in some air, tighten my stomach muscles and mentally envisage a cork saving me from utter humiliation.

To make matters worse, I had images of the Dr with his head in my southern regions when suddenly he cops a gale force wind of the worst possible kind. The visions were making me need to fart even more and so I was forced to tell the receptionist I was just ducking out of the room for a minute, aka I needed to go outside, let one rip and deflate some of the air that was building up internally.

I don’t know if it was nerves because of the biopsy, Murphy's law, or yesterdays egg sandwich, but it was bloody awful timing.

Fortunately I managed to hold them in and my kind Dr escaped asphyxiation of the most unpleasant kind.

On another random note, I am sooooo over homework.

This morning as I was packing it all up to return to school I realised we had missed a page of maths and I went into complete meltdown mode.

How did I let this happen?

What will the teacher think of me?

What the freaking hell am I worried about, this homework isn't even mine!

I do worry a little about the amount of homework our kids have to do. In a day and age where childhood obesity is at an all time high, why are our children expected to spend their afternoons sitting on their backsides doing homework?

Oh and since we are already on the subject I might as well show you exactly HOW ignorant I am by asking, what the hell are Graphemes and Iambic Pentameters? And which smart ass came up with them?

I don’t recall any of this terminology from when I was at school. Has it gotten that much harder? Was I too preoccupied with my shiny Lycra tights and Boy George plaits and not paying enough attention?

Or has my mind erased any traumatic memories of my association with those words?

I don’t know, but I am pretty sure at age seven I was all about my times table and learning the difference between a verb and a noun. It all seems way harder these days than it was back in my day.

Could out of ALL the challenges I have faced thus far in my parenting gig, Year 3 English be the thing that defeats me?

Thank God you can Google that shit these days.

Oops another little meep just made its way out. If I squeak my shoes across the floorboards I may be able to convince everyone it wasn't my bum, it was just my noisy shoe.

Have a great weekend.