I called to schedule my annual exam today. Just 56 days until I get to show my hoochie coochie off to another man. I was laughing with some friends last week about the "scoot" the nurse/doc always asks us ladies to do. You know the one. You think your ass is about as close to the edge of the table as possible and you lie back only to have them say, "Can you scoot up a bit more." Um, would you like my vagina in your lap?
I had a nurse once who always told you what she was doing before or as she was doing it. I think it's probably helpful for some, but for me it just made me want to bust out laughing. "Touching, touching, here comes a little coldness" she'd say. Yeah, I figured that one out as you spread 'em wide and stick that metal thing in my hidey-hole. For weeks afterwards, I couldn't be intimate without thinking "touching, touching." That makes things real fun, let me tell ya. The husband isn't so thrilled the second & third time he hears me laughing as he's attempting to get fresh.
I remember when I first got my period (I was 11) and for that first year or so, I'd count to myself, "this is the 14th time I've had my period." It was such a big deal. It quickly became a pain in the ass, or rather a pain in the whoo-ha. I've been through the "oh god, I hope I get my period" times and the "fuck, aunt flo showed up" times. Now that I'm done having babies, I really wish this shit would be here for like 2-3 days and then be done with. But no, I've got this screwed up period that comes earlier and earlier each month and lasts FOR-EV-ER. And try explaining to your 5yo why there is red on the tp and she thinks you are having bloody poopies, something she's terrified of. I hope she is a late bloomer in the period department. The boobies too.
Speaking of the ta-ta's. What does your nurse/doc talk to you about while they are giving you your breast exam. Nothing like chatting up the weather as a strangers hands press on your breasts and squeeze your nipples. I've been known to show off my girls a time or two. I'm not shy. But the breast exam creeps me out. I get more bothered by that than the showing of the hooterville down below.
Of course, after one has children you can bare all to anyone at anytime. After the prodding, the poking, the fingers-no the whole hand up there to check the cervix, my va-jay-jay is like an inanimate object. It's mine, but it's not really attached to my body anymore. Does that feeling go away after you have kids? The vessel that brought forth my babies feels different, acts different...well hell, it's just different now.
So, how many different ways did I describe my little love muffin? I don't really have names for my parts, but I bet it would be fun to come up with something.