Sorry for my long absence. I am sure your days were consumed with longing for an updated post from Mountain Momma. But as usual, I have an excuse – I’ve been engrossed in the book “Essential Exercises for the Childbearing Year.” My midwife recommended it to me after I told her I wanted to try and prevent the postpartum “pouch” that took me over a year to get rid of with my last pregnancy, despite my best efforts. I really don’t want to be asked if I’m pregnant when I’m holding a 7-month old in my arms – which happened last time. You can bet I kicked that woman’s ass, or at the very least, put a curse on her behind that it would continue to grow until it was the size of a small car.
Let me tell you, this book, which was originally written in 1976, is chalk full of fun little bits of information. Besides the wonderful photos of permed pregnant women sporting 70s-era workout clothes, making most of them look like Richard Simmons in a leotard, I have learned some exciting new words. By far, my favorite is “vart.” All these years, I had thought a fart out your front end was called a quife, a lovely word that is as embarrassing to say as it is to do. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of experiencing a quife, here is a definition from Urban Dictionary: “A vaginal fart. Typically caused by the compression of air in the vagina during intercourse.” I mean, why hasn’t the word ‘vart’ entered the common lexicon? In my book, it is absolutely brilliant! It leaves no doubt as to what it means – vagina + fart = vart. Elementary, my dear varters. Or quifers, if that makes you feel better.
The other new word I have learned is “sexercise.” Kind of sounds like a naughty form of jazzercise. But man, does this word not just roll off your tongue, making you want to say it over and over again? “Excuse me, it’s time for my morning sexercise.” Again, I wonder why I haven’t heard this word uttered in the media or on TV more often – I think it is absolutely awesome. The point of sexercise is not quite as exciting as it sounds, though – it’s to strengthen your pelvic floor, or Kegel muscles, before and after birth. But really it gives you a wonderful excuse to have sex all the time, since you are really working out in bed and no longer have to go the gym. Here’s my favorite line from the book that describes how to do it: “Grip the penis as firmly as you can with your vagina and hold for a few seconds before relaxing. Repeat a few times until your partner feels that the strength of the contractions is diminishing.”
Wow! Reading that, I thought I had picked up a Danielle Steel novel with a picture of Fabio on the cover. Excuse me while I take off a layer of clothing, I am starting to get a little hot. OK, I’m back. It’s amazing how un-sexy the author makes sexercise sound, but when I read the above sentence to my husband, he said he would be willing to help me sexercise in any way that he could. I think his precise words were, “I’m here for you, baby. Now take your clothes off.”
There’s also some lovely drawings of the female’s three orifices (you win a prize if you can say that word without laughing): the urethra, vagina and anus. There’s three words that will stop any conversation at a cocktail party. They also come in handy for playing Trivia Pursuit. Anus. Man, why couldn’t they come up with a better word than that? Personally, butt hole works just fine for me. And I don’t see what my butt hole has to do with child birth. I think it would rather not be involved at all, more of a passive spectator to its neighbor in the front, even though I know sometimes it’s forced into participating. Enough said on that subject, don’t you think? Moving on.
If your sexercise partner is not available, the author suggests doing Kegel exercises on your own. She is so kind as to provide a list of times when you can do them: “at red lights, on the phone, during boring conversations.” That last one is my absolute fave. At last, a cure for boring conversations!
See, I just kegeled and you didn’t even know it.