I was going to tell you a story…

I was going to tell you a story… But I showered instead. The four day old crust was begging to be sloughed off. Then I was going to tell you a story again… But I ate something. I’ve learned to shove my face when I have any spare moment – […]

Grown women should not have to pee their pants. Also, orgasms rule.

Welcome to the season of giving… of giving germs back and forth… of sharing colds, and the giving of viruses. I am sick, ya’ll. I’ve also been blessed with the ability to birth giant babies. Henceforth, I pee every time I cough or sneeze. I’ve already changed my undies three […]

Kicked. (Last of the 8 lines)

* Last of the 8 line posts spurred by this one >> 8 mm. ***** Love affair with Texas Ranger = kicked. Dependence on boob umbrellas = kicked (Can we say like leather?). Ingestion of multiple pain pills = kicked. Preoccupation with the FrankenPussy = kicked… well maybe one last […]

My binky. (8 lines)

* 8 lines for a month because of this post >> 8 mm *****   Everything is topsy turvy. Exhaustion… sobbing. Anxiety… hopelessness. Fists clenched… veins popping. I reach for it. Soft… comforting… I squeeze it in my hands on the exhale. My husband’s ass is my binky.  

Nipple Shower Dance (8 lines)

* A month of 8 lines in honor of this post >> 8 mm *****   Dodge the water needles. Dodge them for the love of God. Soap and splash rinse… Shimmy to the left. Half turn to the right. Make boob umbrellas with my hands. This is how postpartum […]