The “Nu Nu” Party
Most women remember vividly the first time “Aunt Flo” came to town and I’d be willing to wager ED’s left nut that 90% of women did NOT have a pleasant experience. I grew up in a house with basically three sisters and I can safely say none of us had pleasant experiences when we started our periods.
My poor, poor father. Can you imagine having a bunch of hormonal girls and a wife, all on the rag at the same time (this happens guys, when women live together they start “cycling together”. Consider yourself warned)? My dad has a golden ticket straight to heaven I tell you what!
But now, my sisters and I are all grown and have gotten over the unpleasant experiences.
Well… kind of.
A few weeks ago I got a message from my older sister Sara saying that two of her step daughters have started their “New Moon cycle”–and no, that is not a Twilight reference although ED decided he liked “Nu Nu” better–and she was throwing them a party.
What?
A party?
For starting your period?
OH HELL YEAH!
What better way to let your scared teen/tweenage girls know that becoming a woman doesn’t have to tramatic. Embrace your femininity and hell, CELEBRATE IT!
And how do you celebrate becoming a woman you ask?
With a pedicure and makeup party, of course!
I am thoroughly impressed and inspired by my sisters idea to make a party out of a confusing and, hell I’ll say it, sucky time in a young girl life.
Way to go on the parenting skills Sara!!! Oh, and because I am so impressed I won’t even complain about how a room full of 12 & 13 year olds called me old.
OLD???
Welcome to womanhood you little brats!
Blogfully yours,
Summer
Thank Jesus blogging wasn’t around when I was a kid! I’d have killed my aunt for telling the world about my period. Though this may be a good tool for them to guilt-trip you into buying them better holiday gifts.
In fact, I’ve been eying some really cute boots. If I let you tell the Interwebs about my period will you buy them for me for Christmas? Yeah, I didn’t think so but it was worth a shot.
Tonight I got a surprise Day 5 flood during my solo shift at work (I work at the mall). Ran out of products in about 2 hours. There I was, throwing away my tights and underwear in the office bathroom while ignoring multiple cell phone calls on a work emergency. Then I had to stand on my knees at my desk, al commanda, to type an urgent assignment because I’m wearing my favorite skirt, and no good can come from sitting.
Then Boyfriend showed up for what was supposed to be a quick dinner break before I leave town for a few days. Instead he had to follow me to Forever 21 so I could buy new underwear. The girl in front of me at the counter kept changing her mind about her purchases, so I stepped up, waved the new panties in the cashier’s face and said, “I’m sorry, but this can’t wait.”
Then we had to go to the arcade to get quarters. Then back to my office bathroom because the wall dispenser carries the only feminine hygiene products in the whole mall.
Forty-five minutes into my supper break we still had no food, which sucked because I was pretty much out of iron and red blood cells and stuff by that point.
So, to catalog my basic survival needs:
Clothing — compromised.
Food — compromised.
Sleep — on the bathroom floor, the only suitable surface for someone who is gushing blood like a Civil War amputee. Compromised.
If I ever have a niece, I’m not going to throw her a party for her first period. I’m gonna throw her into the woods in late November and say, “Congratulations on becoming a woman. Hope ya live ’til morning.”