Can we talk about bikini waxes for a second? Because I just had my first post-partum wax and, all deforestation jokes aside, I think my Lady Land is standing up and singing her own national anthem right now, such is her pride. You could say she’s waxing poetic BADAMP-CHING about the goodness and light that falls upon her now. The aesthetician was a mom herself who had also endured a c-section and one might think that was not a friendly topic to distract me with whilst stripping the southern hemisphere but we were just blab-blab-blabbing away about anesthesia and bad lighting and mom flaps (see also: Abs Missing, Reward = Big Bowl of Popcorn) and suddenly she asks me, “How does it look?” and I can barely believe it’s all over. It didn’t even hurt that bad. Of course the pain is all juxtaposed with the last waxing I had which was in my first trimester and everyone who’s ever been pregnant must have Momnesia because they failed to mention that getting waxed whilst pregnant is about as much fun as a taking a nap on a fly trap with some hobbit feet in your face. Not NICE.
I suppose the grooming is somewhat symbolic of how I’m starting to feel like a person again and not just a milk maid zombie. Just a week ago, we started putting the baby bundle down to sleep at a respectable hour and it has made such a difference. Lovey Loverpants and I have, like, dinner! And we have conversations! And we have other things….
Heyyyyy, how ’bout those Celtics!
Baby Girl says, Let’s get together and feel all right.