Heartburn, Incontinence and Hemorrhoids – Oh My!
Ever since I was a kid I’ve been a bit of a night owl. Staying up way past my bedtime to do everything and nothing; watching my stories, thinking about crushes, reading, talking on my landline or simply lost in a thoughtless cycle of nonsense.
“What am I going to wear tomorrow?”
“I wonder what so and so meant by that comment?”
“I wonder if he’s thinking about me right now?”
The answers were always, whatever is clean, she’s a bitch, and no – he is most certainly not thinking about you right now.
With all my best thoughts and ideas coming and going in the wee hours of the night, there was always some ridiculous old TV show on in the background, some stand-up comedy on a channel too mature for my age or some lovers quarrel on Lifetime. In between these shows, my thoughts, and scribbles came countless commercials and infomercials about things my young self never thought she’d ever want or need. See, back in the “olden days” you couldn’t fast forward through the commercials or watch ad free TV on a ridiculous selection of streamed networks. You had to sit through them, mute them or channel surf.
I was never a channel surfer though, once I found a show I wanted to watch I never wanted to risk missing whatever was coming after the commercials. If I had to share the TV with any of the males in my family it was a totally different viewing experience. Their impatience or immediate need to watch something, anything but commercials would send them into a channel changing frenzy. They would continue switching channels and get caught up in a million different things and totally forget what they were watching in the first place. So aggravating, so annoying, but still not the point.
Years and years later, I am now unleashing a flood of memories of countless commercials and infomercials that aired during those late nights. Products I remember laughing at or thinking to myself, “ I will never need that…” Well, here we are in the 37th year of my life, working on my second pregnancy and its so embarrassing to admit that those commercials were definitely geared towards my future body and mind.
Those amazing storage containers you ignored, the amazing vacuum that would one day excite you more than a night out or that organizational system that would change your life. They are all things you will want and love as an adult. Organization – yes! Leak proof food storage – sign me up! A fancy vacuum that sucks, sanitizes and shines that cost more than my first car – great!
Those products are total dream crushers to your younger self, but those aren’t quite the products that make you pray you don’t see anyone you know at checkout at the grocery store. The real bummer and killer of all your hopes and dreams are when you’ll start needing the products that aid in your failing body. The countless medicines, ointments, and feminine hygiene products that you will never want, but desperately need at some point in your life.
The thing is, I always imagined if and when I needed these products that my hair would be grey and my face would resemble a prune. However, that isn’t really how it works. Should I be happy that I still have my gorgeous, dark and shiny hair or feel shame for all the products that currently reside in my medicine cabinet? I guess you need to take the good with the terrible… I mean, I’m 37! I’m not old! I may be “old” to the teenage Melvi who was obviously watching things geared towards a mature audience, but I’m not old by normal life standards. However, my body has taken a head-first dive into a vat of ointment that smells of moth balls, night serum and hemorrhoid cream. I’m sure I’ll need to add Bengay to that cocktail of Agh! in the coming years as well.
Why?! Why me?! Why now?! I’m too young to be worried about accidentally peeing myself while I’m casually having a conversation with another parent. I mean, if my husband sneezes too hard I pee a little; coughing, sneezing, laughing, coming off a high curb… Its all touch and go at this point. So, yeah that commercial for “discreet” comfort and all day protection – add that box of bullshit right onto the shopping list. Not having some purple boxed, daisy labeled feminine products on hand to ensure I don’t have to pick up my kid from school with pee rolling its way down my stretched out and dimpled thighs is no longer an option for me. It’s a must.
Heartburn candies, pills, liquids and made-up home remedies – sure. Let’s try them all! The other day I woke up, hadn’t even put a sip of water or food in my mouth and I got heart burn so bad I was dry heaving and gagging over the toilet before I even had my morning coffee. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! I hadn’t consumed anything but air, but somehow my stomach acid was super pissed at me walking and breathing at the same time.
Pregnancy hemorrhoids – yup, got’em. Is it super uncomfortable and embarrassing to talk about, admit to and share – absolutely. But, guess what – I’m not the only Mom on the planet keeping the hemorrhoid cream companies in business folks. Shit happens, literally. So don’t you judge me or make me feel all alone in my hine-hole discomfort. So, add on a ridiculous ointment for that bullshit to the shopping list as well. The real shame or embarrassment should fall on those ad execs – I never feel as confident and blissful as those stupid actresses look after they’ve applied ointment to their asses. Something about walking out of the bathroom and feeling a cold shiver go up your spine because your engorged and soggy ass needed attention just doesn’t make me feel like smiling at anyone, ever. You’ll just get a “fuck you” scowl and dead eyes from me.
Oy, and an ungodly amount of oils, creams, and serums to give me the false hope we all have in products that will somehow un-fuck whatever mother nature has fucked. Unless your about going under the knife (which by all means, do you) all you have is this expensive bottle of crap that promises to tighten, smooth and erase the experience and life from your face and thighs. I know I’m never going to look like a twenty year old again – because I’m nearing 40 and to be quite honest that bitch was a whole big pile of hot mess. That doesn’t stop me from lathering up my entire body like I’m in line to join the pigs at the county fair every morning. The face stuff actually smells really nice, makes me feel fancy. But, the amount of cocoa buttered products I douse myself in throughout the day should be of concern. I’m keeping those bastards at Palmer’s employed.
Ugh – those damn commercials, my naive scoffs and giggles… it all comes full circle friends. This body is hanging on by a thread people and I haven’t even had the midlife crisis I need and deserve. I’m just keeping the “old bitch” market of goods afloat these days, and not looking forward to the new batch of crap I’ll be on the market for after this second baby busts out of me. Oy, the horror! I’ve got mesh undies, nipple cream and frozen-aloe pads on deck. So just come at me, life.
P.S If you know something I don’t know, send me a list of crap this Momma might need before or after this kid rips me a new one. Thank you in advance.