My Big Girl Panties Have Bling

thong bling

Look out. I'm armed and dangerous.

I’m sorry for frightening everyone. I just learned that various midwest cousins are sending my grandmother quizzical missives, politely inquiring into whether or not I’ve died. And she politely declined to answer, since she wasn’t sure herself.

I’m alive, people. I just had a bad cold. Or maybe the flu. And let me tell you, it was all downhill from there. I’m finally recovering. It’s just that I don’t recover like I used to. One week down from an illness meant I was now one week behind at work, which was not an easy catch-up. And I was also one week behind on laundry and bills and groceries and newspapers and emails. It would all have to be caught up in my “spare time” from 6:30 pm et seq. because I was expected to work as a lawyer in there somewhere. Full time. And then the first week of school came along and WHAM! I was slammed.

I personally blame “forty” for the series of mishaps that have followed. I just don’t recover like I used to. Yes, I said it. I’ve successfully avoided discussing it, but there it is. Forty. I’m told I’m a quadragenarian. Anything that sounds like a symptom that might require Geritol is frightening.

I knew I was screwed at the opthamologist. I turned forty and saw the eye doctor, a young man who shouldn’t be so attractive and have such a nice drawly southern accent. I stare at him. I get away with it because, well, I’m supposed to be looking into his eyes, aren’t I? On my last visit he said, “remember that little experiment we were trying with your stigmatism to see if not wearing glasses would exercise your eyes more?” I remembered. I prided myself on my ability to take the driving test without them on the last time. “Oh. Mmmm hmm.” I loved his lazy way of talking. I smiled and stared into his eyes. “Well, it didn’t work. Start wearing them.”

Gah. Thanks.

In fact I inadvertently saw a whole host of health care providers soon after that, all of whom repeated, in lingo appropriate to their various specialities, that my body isn’t what it used to be, that I needed other various procedures performed over the next six weeks, and that it was time for me to move on and accept it. If anyone else tells me to put my big girl panties on I’m going to take mine off and shove it up their …

I scoffed in defiance. I put on my own version of big girl panties, the thong with the sparkly little heart in front.

And then I blew my knee out. I ran for a goal, one on one, and kablammo. It came from behind. I never saw it coming. A tall guy with a pony tail did not want me to score, but wasn’t coordinated enough to effectively manage that. So instead, he went down. And apparently he wanted to take me down with him. As our feet tangled, I watched the ball roll away. With superman precision I flew out, limbs outstretched, and leapt unwillingly onto the artificial turf-over-concrete and landed squarely on slightly bent port patella. As the pain shot through my leg, the fouling perpetrator sealed the injury by landing, with a flourish of tall-person limbs, tiny rubber-substance designed to cushion falls, and a splash of stinky boy sweat dripping from his hippie hairdo, directly on top of me and my port patella. It was special. I couldn’t even get up to take my revenge in the form of a penalty kick. Off the field I went.

But as you moms know, that kind of thing doesn’t stop life, it just complicates it. It requires a visit to the doctor, several visits, but then life goes on. School starts and the lunch-packing horror and homework hysteria ensues. People sue the government and I’m asked to stand up in court with a throbbing knee. Soccer practices keep happening and people expect me to get my children there on time and with cleats on and cold water, all before I’m supposed to be done with work. Laundry still gets dirty, and with soccer in play, it is also increasingly stinky which means it attains an odiferous shelf life before I ever get to it. My children still need to be fed. I still need to be fed. We run out of milk and cereal and peanut-butter after so many days.

And then Husband unwittingly asks me to go car-shopping so he can have a car when he comes home. In my spare time. Yeah, he really did. He really really did. It must be one of the few perks he’s experiencing right now … a complete dissociation from real life. Oh boy, reintegration is going to be so fun. I’m going to need a new pair of panties for that one. I’m going to need a whole wardrobe of sparkly panties for that phase. Maybe he’d like to see my big-girl panty bling in action. Maybe not.

So, the writing had to fall off for a while. Sorry blog-lovers. I knew you’d understand. I’m hiking ’em up high and getting on with life. On the bright side, I have an MRI tomorrow. I’m planning to fake claustrophobia so I can get some happy drugs and take a long, beautiful nap. Wonder if they will make me strip down to my panties …


23 Comments (+add yours?)

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  4. Sarah Roberts
    Sep 10, 2011 @ 09:44:41

    You are hysterical!! Glad you’re feeling better!!


  5. Big Al
    Sep 10, 2011 @ 05:21:04

    This blog came straight from the heart.

    Good to see you back.


  6. Gail Garvey
    Sep 10, 2011 @ 00:02:39

    In case you are fantasizing about your optometrist, here is a joke:

    Why is it so annoying to make love to an optometrist?
    Because they keep saying “Better like this? Or better like this?”

    I had a knee MRI earlier this year and I did not have to go all the way into the machine, They do ask you if you have ever been a sheet metal worker or if you have shrapnel in your body before you go in, but nothing about panties, big girl or otherwise- I would opt for plain white Hanes. it was kind of weird but not as bad as I thought, then the doctor fixed my torn meniscus and my knee is much better.


  7. Diane
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 21:38:37

    Glad you are back, I missed your stories. I also had one of those eye doctors, that’s the appointment I never missed.


  8. DogBoy
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 12:22:50

    Glad you are back in the saddle, even if it is side saddle. Watch out for wedgies!
    Take care of the injuries. I didn’t and my injuries lingered forever it seems.


  9. bekkijo
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 08:28:03

    OK, gotta love Miki’s comment, you wouldn’t want to have to explain that burn mark to Husband upon his reintegration with the real world. I’m so glad you are feeling better! And if you ever do find that elusive “spare time” people refer to, let me know where it’s hiding!


  10. Kim Miller
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 08:00:17

    Glad you’re back from the dead, I so know this reality. Humm, MRI’s suck. Good luck. Oh and my big girl panties are worn out pitiful things, way to go you!


  11. Colene DeHoff-Botts
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 07:43:09

    I didn’t think my first comment went through so I wrote again. Now you know for sure that I appreciate your blogs.


  12. Colene DeHoff-Botts
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 07:40:54

    Lori, it’s good to have you back. Thank you so much for letting us share your life through your blogs. I’ve shed tears of laughter and tears of sadness as I’ve read them.

    You may not remember, but when you visited our house a time or two when you were in Tonganoxie. My first husband, Pete DeHoff, grew up with the Whites and we remained special friends over the years. My sister Rachel is one of your mother’s best friends. You might be interested to know that I taught your mother and your Uncle Tom, cousins Larry, John and Jim.


  13. Colene DeHoff-Botts
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 07:37:00

    Lori, I really appreciate sharing your life with you through your blogs. You may not remember, but when you were very small and visited your Tonganoxie family, your grandparents brought you to our house a couple of times. My first husband Pete and I were good friends with George and Delores and your mother is a BFF to my sister. I taught your mother, Uncle Tom, cousins Larry, John and Jim.

    It’s good to have you back and I hope you are feeling much better soon.


  14. Christine
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 07:36:51

    I’ve been waiting patiently for your new blog, and it was well worth the wait. But just remember, along with new panties, comes more laundry!
    If you have a chance (you know, in your spare time) I would be ever so honored if you checked out my blog and let me know if you think it sucks or not 🙂


  15. Miki
    Sep 09, 2011 @ 07:08:30

    Umm, I wouldn’t wear those for the MRI. Something might get…burned.


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