Truths: The true “gift” of womanhood.

**Warning this blog might not be for everyone**

It started about two weeks ago… The irritability, the uncontrollable sadness – snapping at the innocent, tears at the drop of a hat – Then, came the headaches and the sore back – until, finally, a week later came my monthly gift.

For 25 years I have been receiving this monthly gift – and I can count on my hands how many times I was actually grateful to receive it! (you know where you pray you will never do “that” again if you could just get your period THIS time)

It is the gift that does tell us we are the stronger sex because no man could bare it – especially for 30—40 years. You know that if the gift was something men got – they would have figured out years ago – how to stop it.

I know the gift is also something remarkable – this beautiful process that allows us to bear the next generation – makes us the key to survival. Still, I would prefer someone else have it each month.

I mean – nearly the whole month we are somehow suffering from its wrappings… For a week we become these unrecognizable women – blubbering over ASPCA commercials where they show Fido wagging his tail and hoping for a home. Then, we become angered when – like any other day – our husbands leave the toilet seat up and we lunge at them with the plunger demanding to know why the $%^* they can’t think of how that affects us.

When the emotional tyrade wears off, we find ourselves in agony – first it might be headaches that immobilize us from daily activity, then backaches that aren’t cured from a bottle of Advil… then the bloating to the point that even our fat jeans won’t button and then BAM – here comes the gift like the rapids and we find ourselves double over with cramps.

What kind of horrible joke is this?

We then spend a week dealing with our gift until finally we are able to enjoy about 10 days before it starts all over again. Aren’t we the lucky ones?

All of this hit me when I had mine last week and found myself in need of another box of tampons. Okay, first I needed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream and then I realized I needed more tampons. I was up at the cabin and the only place to go is a tiny grocery store. The kind with one check –out and 10 aisles.

Even at 39 – I couldn’t bring myself to buy the ice cream and the tampons at the same time. It just seemed so obvious – so I did what any grown woman would do – I made do with the stock I had at home and only got the ice cream!

The next day there was no denying that I needed to replenish my supply so I mustered up the courage to walk into the tiny grocery store and only get the tampons. Yes, I could have added some unneeded items – but I was 39 – surely I could flaunt my maturity.

I walked into the store with two younger men – hoping that they would take a left when I would take the right (and they did).

I walked right to the feminine products in search of a multi-pack (God knows our gift can’t just come in one size package – it has to keep us guessing how bad it is going to be that day or that hour).

Who was I kidding? This wasn’t Target at home – the selection was not going to be that good – so I grabbed “Super Plus” and “Regular” and darted to the check-out and this is where my writing inspiration came from…

As the older woman cashier bagged my goods and handed me the receipt she said, “Have a great day!”

Seriously? Did she NOT see what I just bought? There is nothing great about the day I was about to have!