what. is. this?!

This is probably a TMI post, actually, there is no probably about it. This is DEFINITELY a TMI post, but my husband hates hearing about periods so I had to just turn to my blog, the one thing in the world that doesn’t shut down when I start to talk about yuckies. 

I knew it was coming, heck, two days ago I made chocolate cupcakes just so I could eat spoonfuls of raw cake batter, but it’s like I just didn’t realize it was actually time for shark week, as it’s known in our house. Then it roared with a vengeance this morning. I HATE being on my period, but I don’t know many females in my life that scream in excitement when aunt flo appears every month. In all honesty it’s been particularly bad since birthing three babies. I never worked like clockwork, I would have two or three periods a year and that my friends is something I was okay with. Then all of the sudden once I had my first baby, two weeks exactly after he was born I started my period. Seriously who does that?! Then two weeks after little number 2 was born the same thing. The third time I lucked out and waited a whole month, I think because I breastfed for a while (until he lost a scary amount of weight) but it’s been like clock work the last four months and I honestly miss being miserably pregnant.

My poor houseful of boys. My poor uterus. My poor poor husband. I am a nightmare during my period. EVERY time I get it it takes me back to when I was camping with my dad, and my brother on my period. Worst. idea. ever. Dad renamed my uterus my Utah because I bitched and bitched about my uterus hurting so finally he started calling it a Utah. Boys will never understand, dad and my brother had us horseback riding, and sleeping on the ground, a good 1/2 mile walk to the bathroom, hiking, bike riding. Seriously I never in my life thought that one of my favorite memories of my dad four and a half years after he passed away would be brought on once a month by aunt flo. 

On a sidenote, I always get really psycho dreams before I start my period… maybe it’s hormonal or something, but last night I dreamt that my dear cousin, and the Godmother to our sweet Caiden and wonderful Kash, ate my husband, alive…. leaving nothing but his left hand, which is how we identified that he was gone….. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?!?!?

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