General Board
Brian, do me a favor, 'k?
Date: Tuesday, 22 May 2001, at 5:12 p.m.
In Response To: Modesty, ladies! Modesty PLEASE! (Brian)
If you and Nic decide to have kids, just fly me down to be there for her, 'k? Please, don't under ANY circumstances try and be her primary support person during the delivery. In fact, you can get together with some buddies at a local Starbucks and hang out; we'll call you on a cell phone when it's over. Then, after everything is all tidy and neat we'll call you back into the room and you can pretend the kiddo was found under a cabbage leaf, 'k?
Modesty? Please! In my book, bodily functions aren't something to be ashamed of, to pretend doesn't exist; it's that attitude that got us generations of girls who didn't know what their periods were, that thought sex was "dirty", that thought orgasm was for the guy, and little boys who thought they were dying when they had "those" kind of dreams. (See? I can talk in euphemisms, too!) Please, let us not ever go back to those times. Maybe you want to think women are these sweet smelling dolls, but the reality is that there's a real, dare I say functioning, body here too.
Do we talk about it in board rooms, at restaurants and on the subway? Probably not. But in the privacy of one's own home, a husband and wife should be able to share ALL of their medical concerns with each other. If Burtimus had a rectal exam you'd better be damn sure I'd want to know about it; there's a reason guys get rectal exams (I hear they're not much fun, at least for most guys). If I had some kind of unusual vaginal discharge, as my husband he'd be the first person I told, IF I felt it was a medical concern. What should I do? Wait until I'm dead for him to find out I had cancer, lest he think I'm anything but an animated, admittedly fat, Barbie doll?
As for how one could engage in discussions of cervical mucus and vaginal dryness allow me to give you some ideas:
Mr. and Mrs. Jones have tried every birth control device known to man and woman kind; or rather, because they don't talk about fertility, Mrs. Jones has tried every birth control device known to woman, created by man. All have failed, after giving her horrible side effects which, of course she didn't share with Mr. Jones because he might get offended. They (or rather SHE) finally opts for NFP (natural family planning) where the woman charts her basal body temp, her CERVICAL MUCOUS (I see you wincing there, Brian!), etc. to determine her fertile times. Then, during non fertile times they can engage in... well, you know; during fertile times they must abstain or use a birth control device. Because they're all so "icky" and involve using diaphrams and spermicides (the less discussed the better) Mrs. Jones decides that they will abstain during these fertile times. So, Mr. Jones gets rather amorous one night and Mrs. Jones says, "Sorry, honey. I'm afraid I'm having lots of fertile cervical mucous so no nookie for YOU tonight. Can we maybe do something else?" (You know, watch The Tonight Show? Sopranos reruns? Late night horror films?) Maybe it would be better if she told him she had a headache? Or hadn't washed her hair? Or her big toe hurt? (Or is that too personal?)
Exhibit number two. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, FINALLY can have intercourse again because the fertile time of her cycle is over. So... they're doing the horizontal hoochie coochie (you like that euphemism?) and over the course of a few minutes they both start to feel a little sore and it's not so much fun anymore. Maybe Mr. Jones rushed Mrs. Jones with tonight's activities (it happens), or maybe she's experiencing perimenopause (don't worry, Brian; it's a girl thing), or maybe something else is going on. Maybe she's secretly mad at him because he wouldn't push the shopping cart at the store that day.
Anyway, she says to Mr. Jones, "Honey, could you get the lube, please? I'm experiencing unpleasant VAGINAL DRYNESS." "Sure, Muffin" he says, and a squirt or two later, it's back to fun time for the Jones'.
Of course, maybe it would have been better if she'd just let Mr. Jones deal with that "silly" thing called fertility and let him wear a condom. Every time. All the time. And if he got a latex allergy and his wee willy winkle fell off, oh well. As long as they didn't talk about it, everything is aok.
On the other hand, not mentioning something they were both feeling, vaginal dryness, and just "going for it" might have made them both sore the next day. Or maybe Mr. Jones thought he'd not pleased his wife. Or maybe if it hurt, it would make her less likely to want to "engage" next time. So, the next time he tries to get friendly, fearing his reaction to hearing about her "vaginal dryness" she says, instead, "I've got a headache."
Oh yes, talking about it is SOOOOO much worse.
What century are we in again??
Hoping Bri doesn't mind my teasing,
Cookie Grrrl