Since I stopped nursing it is inevitable that my period will be returning any day now and while I don't look forward to it I must admit that its appearance every month is reassuring. I haven't had a period since May 2008; for those of you who suck at math that's over two years free from tampons, pads and the occasional accident. In fact, dear readers, I don't even OWN a box of tampons. I must have tossed them out when we moved into the house in December. I have some giant super-duper-could-have-soaked-up-the-oil-spill pads from the hospital (you still bleed even if you have a c-section! Fun fact!) but I wouldn't wear those unless it was a crazy heavy flow day and I didn't plan on going anywhere because obviously I'd be rocking granny panties and sweatpants that day.

I am fearful of the return of the period. This means that I will have resumed ovulating so hubby and I will have to be more careful to avoid getting pregnant before we're ready to start trying for baby number two. Will it come back heavier than before? I didn't have cramps before but will I start getting them?

The reason that I am thinking about my period is because I was a total bitch to Jacob today. My shitty attitude and moodiness resembled PMS and has me thinking that my period must be about to start. I would rather it wait until I get back from vacation on the 11th but I realize that I don't have control over it. I should. I mean, it's MY body, right?

I digress.

There are many rad things about being a chick (I can immediately think of at least one: boobs!) but this? Fucking sucks. I got my period when I was thirteen years old and my two best friends had already had theirs for awhile. I was a late bloomer but not by much. I guess my parents were feeding me more organic food than theirs (sarcasm, but not really). ANYWAY I wore tampons from the get-go. Pads were for prudes and I knew I was still a virgin even if I used a tampon. Oh, the myths that some girls have about periods. Teenage girls are fucking stupid.

Wanna hear a story? Yeah ya do!

My junior year of high school was a banner year for me (what a fucking lame cliche). I finally found my niche: I was the WEIRD ONE but everyone liked me. I tried getting away with having pink hair at school and I dressed in a style that could be described as vintage rocker chick. I wasn't cool but I wasn't a fucking loser either. I stood out in a good way and didn't draw negative attention to myself.

You see where this is going, yes?

One day during literature class I felt it. I had a heavier flow that I anticipated and my tampon couldn't hold all of it. I didn't have a liner on because I hate those things and that day I chose to wear a skirt. It was heather grey and well, yeah. BLOOD. I didn't know how badly I had leaked so I asked to go to the restroom to assess the mess and clean myself up.

Holy shit. There was a dark red spot on the back of my skirt four inches in diameter. I was mortified. I knew that everyone in my class had seen me get up and leave the room and it was obvious that this was blood and not piss or ink from a busted pen or mud. Blood. Hey, world, I'm menstrating! Check me out! I had a jacket on so after I cleaned myself up (it felt like I had been in the bathroom for an hour) I tied the jacket around my waist and returned to class. No one said anything to me about it (thankfully) and when I went to sit down I noticed that there was a little blood on my seat. Fuck. Just sit down, Lauren. Everyone knows you're on your period.

After class was over I ran to the locker room and changed into my dance clothes. Sure, they were a little musty but you know what? They didn't look like I had swiped them from a crime scene.

So yeah. Menstral cycle? BRING IT ON. I'm not ready for you but you don't give a fuck anyway.