Thursday, June 13, 2013

Gynecology Gone Wild

This post is part of series featuring the insanely talented and good looking women who contributed to the book: I Just Want to Pee Alone. Meet Tracy. I love her like iced coffee on a hot day with a bad hangover.


Tracy Winslow is a SAHM trying not to raise a flock of assholes.  Besides crafting cocktails with Zoloft, Tracy can be found cursing, crying into her coffee over her stretch marks, Ouija-boarding her deceased metabolism and blogging humorously about her children and life at http://www.momaical.com.  

Find her smart ass remarks as well on Twitter: @Momaical and 
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MomaicalBlog



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The yearly trip to the gynecologist is a necessary evil.  Going to the gynecologist with two children in tow descends the entire experience to a whole new level of hell.

Coupled with my lack of childcare options available to me, was my sleep deprived insanity logic into deciding to bring them along:
It's a 5 minute appointment.  How bad could it be, really?  I'll just set them up with something to watch on my phone.  They won't even notice what's going on.  Oooh!  Look!  There's a bird in my yard!  Did I flip the laundry yet?  I like chocolate. 

So, the girls and I walk in to the appointment, armed with iPhones, toys and enough snacks to feed Latvia and Lithuania.  The nurse took care of the preliminaries and the girls were immersed in some show about giant squid.  She hands me my pink paper nightmare to put on - open in the front for optimal awkward.  I quietly disrobe and am not even on the table before the doctor walks in.  I count my blessings that she is so fast in arriving in the room because I am staring at a Molotov cocktail sitting next to a flame thrower.  I am positive the swath of destruction left behind us in the waiting room had nothing to do with the expediting of my appointment.

The first 37 seconds went smoothly.  I am sending "pay no attention to the woman beneath the paper curtain" subliminal messages to my kids.  I think I am almost home free. I am a foolish, foolish woman.

Lena: "Mommy!  Why is she poking you in the pee pee?"

Emmeline: "Hey! Stweaker! You nakey! Hahahahahahahahaha!!!!"

Lena: "Mommy.  Seriously.  She is STABBING YOU IN THE PEE PEE.  Do I have to do that at my back to school doctor’s appointment?"

The gynecologist speeds up the exam as I flounder through an explanation that this is an appointment to make sure I am around for many, many more years of abject humiliation from my children.

Emmeline decides it is the perfect time for a cabaret. "You is nakey awound!  Mommy - Mommy is nakey!"  However, the audience of three is not quite the draw she is looking for.  So she opens up the door to the exam room and yells down the hallway. "Nakey!  Nakey!  My mommy is poked in da bunners!"  

AND I CAN'T GET UP TO CLOSE THE DOOR BECAUSE THE DOCTOR’S ARM IS SO FAR UP MY HOO-HA THAT SHE MAY BE CHECKING MY TONSILS.
Lena: "Is her whole arm in your pee pee?"

Emmeline: "Awm in da pee pee! My mommy is nakey and stweaking with her bunners!"

Lena: "Mommy, you might want to know that Emmeline is running down the hallway."
Is it possible to die of embarrassment? Because I'm pretty sure I came close. The doctor quickly finishes and I run down to the lobby, "nakey" except for my paper shift.  Emmeline ran right to a brand new young dad in the waiting room.  I grab my toddler with the one hand that is not holding together my only source of vestment. I look him right in the eye and say: "Congratulations on your new baby. Parenthood is awesome."

Then with my pink paper gown flapping in the wind, I head back to the room to gather what little is left of my dignity.  Which is less than the material clutched between my fingers.  
(c)Herding Turtles 2009 - 2013

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