Monday, September 23, 2013

I invented a pill that gives worms to ex-girlfriends.


Look at that bastard.

You might as well call this a birth control pill instead of an antibiotic because there was no chance I could have conceived any babies in the state I was in.

Yes,  I've had a tubal ligation.  That's not the point.  The point is I've never reacted to an antibiotic like I did this one.  If you're the kind of freak that finds my side effects sexy, I don't know what to say.  Shouldn't have eaten all those paint chips when you were a kid?  Whippets weren't as fun at parties as you thought at first? 

Tuesday I went to the doctor, she felt up my glands, I paid for pills and began taking them.

By Friday night I'd slept for 60 hours straight with a low grade migraine, waking up only long enough to puke.  The pharmacist told me to take this pill on an empty stomach.  No problem.  Even the thought of water made my stomach lurch.

I went four days without washing my hair.  Or brushing my teeth.  I left a grease ring on my pillowcase and my sheets had that moldy penicillin smell. 

Friday night I quit taking that pill.

Saturday I slept much of the day.  Ate some white bread.

Sunday I got up, bathed, brushed my teeth, did fifteen minutes of housework, and then fell back asleep.

Today I got my kids off to school, looked at my neglected house some, took a bath, and opened all the windows.  I'm wrung out.  Still sleepy.  But much better.

How's the ear?  That's doing nicely, thanks.  It's stopped oozing and it's not swollen anymore.  Cross fingers.

Tomorrow...the long awaited and last installment of how to discuss sex with your kids.

Because it's not a good idea to keep them asleep and nauseated for the rest of their lives.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

I wish Shah Rukh Khan would feel my glands and discuss my hormones.

I developed a fairly severe ear infection over the weekend.

The local doctor felt my glands.  We discussed my hormones.  She prescribed me ear drops and an oral antibiotic.

I've been in quite a lot of pain.  I'd rather pass a kidney stone or give birth. 

The ear drops are making the right side of my face swell to three times it's normal size.  I can't feel my teeth.  My ear looks like a toddler's playdough masterpiece.  I'm not taking the next dose. 

Unlike other oral antibiotics, it's recommended that I take this one on an empty stomach.

My family is in the next room eating pizza for dinner.  Pizza which I did not cook for them and won't be eating because I can't chew.  The pizza smell will have to sustain me because I can't eat for another half hour and when I do, it'll be Cream of Wheat.

Did you come here hoping for the next and last installment on how to discuss sex with your kids?

I apologize profusely.  My ear is beginning to drain and when I can chew again, I'll get right on that.

For now, just think about how sensual Cream of Wheat is.

...and enjoy a nice clip from the Bollywood movie I watched today because it had subtitles...



Friday, September 13, 2013

FYI (If you're a conscientious parent) - let's talk sex ed Part II

I meant to post this yesterday but as always, life tends to rearrange a mom's priorities.  Do me a solid and share this with your friends.  I'd appreciate it.



Besides that photo of me wearing those big fake boobs, On my About Me page I've posted other photos, including this sexy little number right here.


I sew costumes.  Mostly for Halloween.  I think if you're going to dress slutty you shouldn't waste your money on a prefabricated costume that won't last a cycle in the washing machine.  Premature disintegration is embarrassing.

According to some, maybe even the mother who wrote that FYI post, the way I'm displaying myself is mighty disrespectful.  But, I think you should look at this photo again.  See any cleavage?  Do you see the outline of my breasts?  (I know for a fact you don't.  God didn't grant me that wish.)  How much skin can you really see?  Is the position of my legs, arms, hands or head suggestive?  How about my facial expression?  Do you sense any come hithering?

No...and you're probably wondering what my point is.  GeezLouise woman, quit blabbering about your selfies and get on with the sex ed.

Just this.  Sex is for the most part in our heads.  The biggest sexual organ is our brains.  We are sexual beings from birth.

Most of us don't think twice about sexual imagery.  French maid costumes are sexy, even though I know that I'm wearing a thick white cotton petticoat under that black skirt and a pair of mid thigh pantalets under that.  It's the Fort Knox of French maid costumes.  No one is getting in there without a password and some chocolate.   

When two of my three boys got around age 10, around the age when some of their female classmates were starting to need bras, part of our birds and our bees was about sexual imagery and the idea that they should question what they see.  The images aren't inherently good or inherently bad.  Nor are my sons for looking.  It's what you do with the imagery that matters.

The sexual imagery talk was easy to accomplish.  Sexual imagery is all around us and throughout history pretty much always has been.  Last year my 8 year old went through a bout of binge watching He-Man on Netflix.  The same He-Man I watched when I was a kid.  The production values and plot sure was bad, but the imagery sure can be compelling!

 
What do you tell your 8 year old son those ram horns on her chest are for when he asks?  He-man goes around in weird looking underwear and his girlfriend has a dangly bit down her front.  I asked him what he thought they were for and he said they looked tough but they looked weird and big.
 
That's the point.  They are weird and big.  They are there for no other reason.
 
If you think about it, sexual imagery has always been cartoonish.  Being in awe of this thing that is so human, so every-day, which feels pleasurable, which arouses our bodies and minds, which can create the miracles of love and babies...isn't that something we focus on the biggest parts of for any one of us?  From exaggerating all five senses concerned with the act to exaggerating the morality behind it from one extreme to another.  Some examples:
 
(Some of these links may not be safe for work.  Discretion is advised. Yadda.)
 
The Romans come up with Priapus.  Pan got it on with livestock.
Pompeii was known for the ambiance of it's fine brothels and bath houses.
The Kama Sutra had some interesting anatomical idiosyncrasies.
As long as we're in India, check out the porny architecture.
20th Century pin up drawing.
 
It just goes to show that people like sex.  We like puppies and food and work and play and sex.  If a ice cream cone is good then a banana split with whipped cream, sprinkles and a cherry is better. 
 
We like to feel something when it comes to how we relate to our bodies, our brains, and what kinds of relationships are possible with other human beings as well as how we relate to ourselves.  We feel powerful emotions when we display ourselves and powerful emotions when we see a display, emotions that are positive and healthy and emotions that are negative and unhealthy.
 
I tell my sons there is no shame in seeing, or thinking about it, because they are as human as anyone else, both males and females.  If what they see and feel is compelling that it's because it's meant to be and that they have the power to decide for themselves what it means to them to see it.  Exploring ideas is exploring yourself especially when it comes to the vulnerability of sexuality.  Is what they are seeing really the whole story when it comes to knowing themselves and relating to other human beings? 
 
I also tell them that graphic sexual imagery is illegal until they turn 18 years old.  So while they may try to seek it out, it's inappropriate until they develop adult brain functions.  The last portions to develop in young adulthood control decision making and impulse control
 
The more information they are given about sex, and the less they feel ashamed, the more tools they have to rely on when impulses happen and decisions are made.
 
That's what we call "personal responsibility".
 


Monday, September 09, 2013

FYI (If you're a conscientious parent) - let's talk sex ed

So...hello there new readers and other hangers on...

What can I say?  I'm happy you're here and I'm doubly happy it's because of a subject I've been passionate about for a long time.  Passionate in the very interested platonic sense rather than the hot bothersome sweaty sense?  Yeah, something like that.  The subject of the sexual education of our children...hell, our entire species...is one I find important and putting it into practice only makes us better humans.

A large part of my interest comes from my background and the way I grew up.  That's where I want to open this series of posts about talking sex to your kids.  The first aspect to performing this Herculean feat is to consider our attitudes towards sex and how we grew up.  This is the way I grew up and it will help you understand where I'm coming from.

I think the expression on my kid's face is hilarious.

I was born in Provo, Utah in 1974, fourth child out of five and third girl to parents who married as teenagers before hippies were a thing.  Utah county is a place I affectionately term in this blog as, "The Utahiest location in Utah."  There is no bigger percentage of devout practicing Mormons as there is where I grew up.  My family was not included in that percentage.  From time to time we attended the LDS church but the label we wore in the community was "Inactive".  As in, my family had issues with the faith and for the most part did not attend services or activities.  These days the label I wear when I go back to Utah County to visit is "apostate".  As in, I am no longer a practicing Mormon.  Both of these labels are loaded with connotative meaning.

Utah Mormon culture is a strange duck.  You may have heard the quacking during the 2012 presidential election, what with that Mitt Romney guy, and then before that it's role in California's Proposition 8 outlawing gay marriage.  When it comes to sex in Utah culture there are some dos and many don'ts.  Do wait to have sex after marriage.  Don't have any type of sex before marriage, which includes groping, heavy petting, making out, necking, tongue kissing, dry humping or arousing lusts...lest you be a licked cupcake or a chewed up piece of gum.  Sex outside of marriage is a sin next to murder. Do not masturbate.  Don't be gay, and only recently it's been decided that if you are born gay, that you should remain celibate for the rest of your life and you can still be a good Mormon.  Dress modestly, so that your shoulders, chests, and bottom half to the knees are covered.  Confess sins against chastity to your Mormon bishop and if they are serious enough, humbly accept consequences from the church body.

Then the unwritten rules follow that...not official doctrine but some of the social conditions that get passed around like gossip without basis.  Don't use tampons as they will compromise your virtue.  Don't remove your body hair in extreme ways.  Double date as a young adult and don't get yourself into serious relationships until you are an adult.  If you are a young man, meet the father on the first date.  Being modest is hottest.  No oral sex, or anal sex, mutual masturbation or toys even if you are married.  If you're washing in the shower, use a washcloth on your genitals instead of your hands.

There are so many more and I could spend hours listing them, but I think you get the idea.  When you put an emphasis on the don'ts and add a couple extremes in there, you shouldn't have to spend any time talking about what you need to know when it comes the proper time to do the dos.  They'll figure it out as Mother Nature and the Lord intended.

When I was a teenager it was abstinence only sex education by law.  Birth control was not discussed.  STDs were not discussed.  The anatomy and the biology of the opposite sex was not discussed in any depth.    There was scant access to hormonal birth control if you needed it as a teen.  There was a lot of shame in even asking an adult, a parent or a teacher or a religious mentor, if you were normal.  A teacher wasn't even allowed to answer that question.

My parents gave me some sex education, or rather, my mother did.  Some, as in the hinting type of talk that still left sex as a mystery, and she was way more forthcoming than the parents of my friends.  I had the "Your body and you!"  presentation in the fifth grade where the promise of menstruating was exciting and still a mystery.  Before then I wasn't even aware I had a vagina. Read me some Judy Blume. There was a presentation on how conception happens in junior high with a split second glossing over of concept that men get erections and have testicles.  I felt my first erection at a school dance when I was 14 or so.  I made the link to what intercourse meant while reading an article about vulvodynia in my mother's Good Housekeeping.

Yadda yadda, I had premarital sex and conceived my first child at 18 years old with my 23 year old boyfriend who was a virgin when we met.  You can read that story HERE.   At eighteen I wasn't totally ignorant, and I in no way blame my parents, but I still didn't have access to many resources because of the culture. Teen pregnancy rates were at their highest in 1991/early nineties and have been steadily falling since.  My husband, the father of all three of my children, and I have been married 20 years.

It was then, right out of high school and planning a wedding, I had to confront the idea that I should be ashamed.

Well, yeah, I was ashamed.  For many reasons.  But none of them were because I had sexual feelings or that I had enjoyed sex with a partner I had fallen deeply in love with.  Or that I'd had boyfriends before my husband and we tested out what it was to arouse feelings in one another.  That was the disconnect.  Isn't this normal?  Why wasn't this talked about in a real way?  Why the light switch approach to sexuality...from it's so bad before marriage and after marriage it's a duty, try to have fun, and let's still not talk about it.  Why was it wrong for me to seek out the tools I needed on my own to approach this part of my adulthood?

I've talked to many in my community openly about sex since then.  From women who won't go see a gynecologist because someone other than a husband might see their vulva to men who didn't realize their wives don't have prostates.  I've talked to husband and wives, supposedly lovers, who don't even talk about sex with one another. The ignorance is astounding.  It's willful in this day and age.  It's dangerous.

We can point the finger at shame...it's the shame and the stigma that is most dangerous.  Did you know that Utah has the highest rate of paid internet porn subscriptions in the country?  Did you know that porn and sex addiction recovery is big business in Utah?  Did you know that the Salt Lake City area is quickly becoming saturated with plastic surgeons performing breast augmentations?  Did you also know that Utah has a high gay teen homelessness and suicide rate?   The governor of Utah vetoed an abstinence only sex ed bill last year and a Utah state senator proposed a bill to expand public sexual education for adults because many parents “don’t feel entirely comfortable” talking about sexual topics with their kids and need resources to help them learn how.

I'm not trashing Utah or the LDS church.  If you're a practicing Mormon, I'm happy for you.  Really, I am, because I think there are many ways to feed the soul.  If you're practicing any religion, I'm happy for you.  But, what do you suppose that the monster of shame is not at all feeding souls?  Not just in Utah, but all over the country.  Some of it stemming from religious instruction and some of it not.  That despite having access to more creditable resources than ever that learned shame is keeping us from learning how to talk to our kids.

In these coming posts I hope to expound on how I talk to my boys about sex so that they may become honorable men who aren't hindered by shame.  It's a wish in my heart for my boys to have healthy, trusting, kind and loving relationships with healthy partners.  I would like my sons to be fulfilled and authentic when it comes to love.
 
You can't do that when you keep your head and your heart under a rock.

So, let's talk about it.  It's important.

Part II - talking about sexual imagery.

Wednesday, September 04, 2013

In response to FYI (if you're a teenaged girl)

Let's get this out of the way at the beginning of my post:

Tee-hee...boobs!

That's me but those aren't my boobs.  The boobs are a costume item I sold online for a while, made out of polyester and fiberfill.  Great gift idea...good for baby showers and pot luck dinners.

Now that you've seen me in one of my favorite photos, are you able to control yourself?  Especially if you are a red blooded heterosexual young male...can you tear your eyes and thoughts away long enough to see the woman behind the photo?  Have I made you impure?

If I posted an even more naked photo, would you be able to look me in the eye?

I hope so.

At least that's the sentiment I left in a comment (still in moderation) on a blog post that's gone viral these last couple days.  A quote from FYI (if you’re a teenage girl) on Given Breath on the subject of modesty of teenaged girls:
I know your family would not be thrilled at the thought of my teenage boys seeing you only in your towel. Did you know that once a male sees you in a state of undress, he can’t ever un-see it?  You don’t want the Hall boys to only think of you in this sexual way, do you?

Many of you know that I'm the mother of sons.  They are 19, 14 and 8.  Because I'm the mother of sons and in general a conscientious person, I've been as thorough as I can be regarding their hormones and the subject matter of sex. 

Let me give you an example.  When my middle boy was in second grade he asked me why the baby his teacher was carrying didn't just fall out of her body before it was ready to be born.  I got that kid in front of a computer, pulled up a diagram of a woman's reproductive system, and he learned that the part that keeps the baby inside is called a cervix.  I also told him that many people are not as comfortable as his mother is when it comes to the subject of sex and reproduction, and so he shouldn't just repeat what I taught him in school.  Then I forewarned his teacher.  It would be an odd thing at circle time for the subject of her cervix to come up.

My oldest asked me what a period was at age 7.  I told him.  He asked what herpes was at age 12.  I showed him.  It led to a productive conversation on STDs and how they are transmitted.  My middle asked me what the term "horizontal polka" meant.  I told him.  My youngest asked me how women got eggs in their bellies to make babies.  I told him along with the help of YouTube and without euphemisms.

My children know that they can come to me and ask me any question.  I will not bat an eye.  I do not get embarrassed.  I will answer with compassion.  We talk about all of it.  Male and female anatomy and function.  Biology, hormones, drives and orientation.  Sexual ethics, sexual consequences, and love.

Hell...I've even had a question and the ensuing conversation at Disneyland making the happiest place on earth all the more happy.

When you talk this way with your children you remove the mystery, the shame and the stigma of sex.  AKA, the tee-hee factor.

What you get is young men and young women who have the tools to approach their sexuality in a matter of fact way rather than out of misguided emotion and unchecked instinct.  While my sons may look at a photo of a lively young lady and have an impure thought or two, they also know that there is nothing wrong with them because of that.  That they can put the thought in the proper context because they don't have to be ashamed or make a secret of having a normal reaction.  They know, because their mother has taught them, that women are more than their parts or their clothes.  They understand what their body is doing and why and what happens when they act out of ignorance, naivete or single minded lust.

Modesty is how we view other people and not how much of our naughty parts are covered.  No one else is responsible for our thoughts and you can control them.

So, if my boys see something like this...

 
...the expectation I have laid at their feet is that while they may have sexual thoughts, Miley is a human being, and you will look her in the eye.  Robin Thicke is a human being.  You will treat him with consideration.



 
 
If they come upon imagery like this, they will have the tools to recognize that she is more than what we'd scorn her for.  That her display only has the power they give it.  She is worthy of respect and of kindness.  You will look her in the eye.


 
This woman is not immodest and she has nothing to be ashamed of.  She has the breasts that all women have.  Her body is not bad and you seeing it doesn't make you bad. You will look her in the eye.
 
 


This woman is not an object.  She is not a commodity.  She has thoughts, feelings and struggles.  She is a human being.  You will look her in the eye.


This woman is not a temptress.  Her body is not property.  Her body is not evil.  It will not cause you to become evil or out of control.  The way she dresses is no more or less worthy of respect than any other woman on the planet.  You will look her in the eye.

My sons bodies are not evil.  They are not abnormal.  They are not commodities.  They are not animals.  They are not clueless, thoughtless or incapable of decency.

So, having read all this and remembering back to my hilarious photo of my costume boobs, I'll ask you the question again.

Can you look me in the eye?

Damn right.




ETA (Sep. 9, 2013)

I'm talking sex ed.  Go ahead and CLICK HERE!


Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Can martyrs wear white today or not?

Did we all have a lovely Labor Day?  Was everyone's three day weekend satisfactory?

Mine was decent, thank you.  Bit of a brag...my county schedules their fair on the Friday before Labor Day...so all the little school children get that day off school in case they'd like to go see prize hogs and eat deep fried Twinkies.  We got four days worth of sitting on our butts and everyone else got three.  Neener.

Speaking of Twinkies...the box my husband hoarded on the day they went away almost a year ago got opened.  The Twinkies were all hard as rocks.  Obviously not good for eating but perfect for throwing missile style at bratty neighbor children.  I hope they ate them and got the trots.

Labor Day means many things to many people.  I don't know that it should go beyond the celebration of the steadfast  and honorable worker but it's a nebulous enough holiday to hijack.  Labor Day is good for shopping or grilling meats or professional football.

Labor Day has also been mommyjacked.

That is, I saw many fruity women about my social media outlets wishing other fruity women a happy Labor Day because all these fruity women had experienced childbirth.

Happy Labor Day!  How's your vagina?  Mine's done it's job!  Squee!

Almost 7 billion people on the planet and I'd presume that we all popped out of a female human being.  That's why we have birthdays and Mother's Day and Father's Day.  Reproduction is well represented and fruity women don't  need to co-opt a holiday that non-parents should be able to enjoy too.

Don't get me wrong here.  It's an awful special thing to endure hours of  excruciating contractions to eventually expel a miracle.  I've done it three times in a hospital without medication.  I've talked about my experiences with childbirth on hundreds of occasions, especially the part where I bit my mother during transition.  There is a video in my attic of me in the act, featuring a close up that isn't my face.

I just don't show that video on Labor Day.

I show it on Halloween.

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