The other day I had several errands to run. I had three boxes needing to go out in the post, Christmas cards to be written and mailed (I know, I'm running late. What can I say? Twins.) and the babies were running low on formula, so a trip to the shop was in order. Combine this with the fact that:

1) It was colder than fuck
2) I was home alone with the babies, so they'd be coming with me through our expeditions
3) My period had started and I was bleeding like a stuck pig

and I knew it would be a long morning.

I popped in my Mooncup. I washed my hands and then fed the babies (I've learned to never, ever leave the house and run errands with them unless they're doing it on a full stomach. Do otherwise and their screams are so horrific I've no doubt the NSPCC will be called on me.) and then we were off.

The logistics of juggling two babies in car seats, a diaper bag, and three large boxes were amazing. I don't usually put the babies in their stroller because:

1) the twin stroller is enormous, and although it fits through most doorways and in the car, it's really noticeable which means getting stopped every 20 seconds for people to look in on the babies.
2) the babies, they get a bit pissed off if you spend your time moving them from car seat to stroller and back again.
3) it's impossible to push a stroller and a shopping cart at the same time. Despite my formative years spent playing Pacman, I'm just not that coordinated.

So I manage to get a parking space right next to the post office door. I carried the boxes into the post office, setting them by the door. This earned me many strange glances as I left the post office, and I knew people were worried that I had something dodgy in them. As if I would bomb a post office in rural England. The only thing frightening in those boxes is the shortbread I was sending my grandma, the butter content in them screams "instant heart attack".

I then carry both babies in. The queue in the post office is horrendous, and suddenly I have no less than 3 women cooing over the babies. The women all take charge of a car seat and spend their time making eyes at the babies. Nora tolerates this well enough, but I can tell we don't have long before she boils over.

When we finally get called to the counter, it takes us ages. Everytime I mail a box to the States I have to make sure it weighs less than 2 kilos, as that's the post office's magic number. I also have to fill out customs forms and I make it my mission in life to be entertaining on them. I wonder sometimes what Statia's postman thinks of her, because I always dick around on the slips (psst Statia-your next package says the contents are "inflatable hemorrhoid cushions". All my love, babe.) Previously I've sent boxes labelled "Cheez Whiz Trophy Winner" and "Recycled Reindeer Poop". I live life on the edge, man.

It takes us ages at the counter, and when I'm finally done Nora's squaking, so we hustle out of there. I put the babies in the car, buckle us up, and head for the shop. Once halfway to the shop I realize I've completely forgotten to mail my Christmas cards.

Fuck.

At the grocery store I realize we don't have much time - the next baby feed is approaching and both Nick and Nora are letting me know that. At the shop I have a structure - I get a large trolley and place both car seats in it. The twin shopping carts are useless - as they're rarely used they're often outside covered in pigeon shit, and anyway Nick and Nora are so tiny in them they slide all over the place even when I pack them in with blankets. I hook a giant grocery bag on the hook on the front of the cart and put the groceries in there, as well as using the undercart basket, and I use the hand scanner so I can get out of the shop quicker. It means I get my shopping done with the babies.

It also means both babies are basically on display in the cart, so we get lots of comments.

As I'm briskly moving through the vegetables, Nora starts squeaking again. I soothe her. Nick then starts in. I soothe him.

And halfway up the fruit aisle, I hear it.

Shhhhhlooooooooock.

Oh God.

Was that sound what I think it was?

Oh God.

I have a sudden sensation of having a sippy cup up my hooch. There's only one reason why I could feel that way and hear that noise.

The seal on the Mooncup has slipped.

My suspicions are confirmed by the sudden feeling of damp knickers.

Oh God.

I can't go to the bathroom as the cart with the babies won't get through the security door leading to them. I am not finished with the shopping as we're desperately short on everything and there are staples that we need to even get through the day. And I can't very well fix the Mooncup there amongst the satsumas and pears because you get arrested for that kind of thing. So there was really only one option.

I was just going to have to bleed and shop like the wind.

I start racing the cart, only going for the things we desperately need. Milk. Formula. Newborn Pampers. Dog food. I'm doing well, blocking and repelling people and their "Ooooooh twins! You have your hands full!" comments with moves that would make a linebacker proud.

(Please, for the love of God, do not go to a mother of twins and use that stupid line. We hear that "you have your hands full" a million times every time we go out. To say that I hate that line is like saying George Bush's nostrils are slightly unattractive. They're both gross underestimations.)

I am nearly done and am grabbing a pack of toilet paper when rear offense tackles me.

It's an elderly woman. She places a frail hand on my arm.

"God bless you, dear, your babies are beautiful."

"Thank you," I say, smiling. I can't be rude, even when my crotch is doing a Lizzie Borden.

"My mother had twins when I was 11," she continues. "It was during the war, and it was tough times."

Ordinarily I would have loved talking to her, but a wet trickle on the inside of my jeans reminds me that all is not well in the House of the Mooncup. I smile.

"I tried to help out," she giggles, "but I was terrible at it." I nod encouragingly. I hope this is going somewhere, as pretty soon it's going to look like I've been making out with some red gloss paint.

"Anyway," she sighs, "the twins died."

OH MY GOD.

My mouth hangs open, slack with not knowing what to say.

She smiles brightly. "You take care, dear." She pats my hand and walks away.

I stand there for a minute. Nora announces her displeasure at absolutely everything in life and that shakes me out of it enough to hustle us to the checkout. I go to the fast lane, which I can use as I've used the hand scanner.

The line is, of course, full of people who have not used the hand scanner and are in the wrong queue but the checkout boy is too nice/too lazy to redirect them.

The woman in the queue in front of me naturally starts talking to me about her friends' twins, the fact that they don't sleep through the night, and oh I must have my hands full.

At this point Nora is furious. She opens her mouth and goes in to what we in this house call The Dolphin - it's a sound punctuated by air and vibrations, a sound which only Flipper could make, and of course it's at a volume that can crack windows all the way to Switzerland.

Everyone stops to look at us.

I pop a bottle into her mouth and she instantly quiets.

Nick starts screaming.

The elastic on the rubber band holding my hair in a ponytail snaps. My hair, which I'd put up wet, immediately makes me look like I've just had a Frankenperm.

The woman talking to me in the queue notices my jeans.

"You've spilled something on you," she say, indicating my crotch with her head.

Fucking. Mooncup.

My mind works furiously. "Frozen turkey," is all I can manage. I have no idea where it came from or why. Naturally, since it makes no sense, I repeat it. "Frozen turkey," I say again, nodding solemnly. The woman looks confused (and slightly afraid), and turns away.

By the time I pay, Nora, who is still strapped in to her chair, has managed to spill most of her bottle down her chin. Nick is shrieking. I look like a virgin on her wedding night, complete with frightening hair.

I get us into the car and whip out a maxi pad I happened to have in the diaper bag. In the driver's seat I unzip my jeans - which do indeed look like I've been masturbating with a red velvet cake - and stick the pad on. I pray to God the security guy isn't walking by as if he does what he will see is a woman with wild hair who appears to be playing with herself while her tiny infants are strapped in the back seat, one of them covered with what looks like half a bottle of milk. I reassemble myself and drive us back to the post office as I've got to get the cards out. Luckily I have enough 2nd class stamps in my wallet to get most of the English cards out, the American ones will have to wait. I pop stamps on the cards and pull up next to the post box. I get out to put them in the red symbol that is the English post box, which is 6 steps away.

And the maxi pad immediately shifts, unrolls itself, and the sticky side is now stuck on my labia.

I start walking with a hitch in a subtle attempt to get the glue off my beaver. It doesn't budge. I walk a little more with a leg kick, channeling the Thai army parade, and all that happens in the sticky pad is now completely entrenched in my cooch. I give up, walk like Igor, and simply accept that everything I own, ever, will have to go in the wash. Including my lady bits.

I sink in to the car, drive us home, and vow to never leave the house again, ever.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:44 AM | Comments (39) | Add Comment
Post contains 1842 words, total size 10 kb.

1 Oh Helen! I know it's not fair to laugh but that is one bad morning! And the last few paragraphs had me snorting in my coffee!! I really hope the day got better after that. The post office is a nightmare isn't it!? I spent 40mins in the queue yesterday, listening to grannies explaining what they were sending to each and every member of their family....one parcel at a time!

Posted by: Suzie at December 12, 2007 11:25 AM (weSjv)

2 Helen - You really do have your hands full... and your mooncup. Ha ha, just kidding! That was awesome. I mean not awesome that all that happened, but awesome of you to share it. You deserve like an award for "Worst Trip to the Store"... Good lord, woman!

Posted by: SaraJane at December 12, 2007 11:44 AM (FUHEd)

3 Oh my god woman do you have your hands full. I haven't had that happen but have been there in many ways. People without kids have no clue. Or maybe people forget as their kids are older. I wonder if I'll be the clueless old woman one day. I have to say the older women have been very unhelpful in my life with small kids, grocery stores, airplanes, no help, nada. They seem to give me mean looks, hey lady you were here once have some sympathy stop with your coupon and price checks and let a woman with a screaming kid go in front of you, I guess not...

Posted by: Judi at December 12, 2007 11:55 AM (W87Xx)

4 And yet, you still find time to be an erotic sex-goddess.

Posted by: ~Easy at December 12, 2007 12:04 PM (WdRDV)

5 Now there's a whole new meaning to the phrase 'my cup runneth over" in my vocab... the next time I hear it (in church probably) I'll be thinking of you... thanks for the (sympathetic) giggle...

Posted by: deeleea at December 12, 2007 12:17 PM (IphB3)

6 You sure have a way, Helen. Here's to somehow still finding the humour in it all. *clinks glass*

Posted by: Gwyneth at December 12, 2007 01:17 PM (Jy7h6)

7 A nightmare, but I just had to shriek with laughter. Did anybody ever tried to find out why these damned pads always turn around? Once I attended a meeting, and while listening to the discussion I suddenly felt that one of the men sitting at the opposite side of the room started to stare at my feet... first I felt flattered, then became more and more irritated. Then I went to the ladies'- and found out that my panty liner had made it's way down my legs, and was clinging happily to my left ankle. Thank God I wore jeans that day. So he maybe just saw a kind of white flag playing peek-a-boo.

Posted by: lily at December 12, 2007 01:42 PM (Y8m4l)

8 All I can say is periods suck. *love you*

Posted by: Teresa at December 12, 2007 01:55 PM (L/L/x)

9 Oh, shit. Karma owes you one, big time. But man, you're hilarious. Cold comfort, I know, but damn.

Posted by: Sarah at December 12, 2007 02:24 PM (I5n47)

10 Damn, sweetie, what a day. Well, you sure brought a smile to my face!

Posted by: isabel at December 12, 2007 02:26 PM (0H+t6)

11 Oh, sweetie, that is so painfully clear, the way you wrote it. I would give you a hug if my arms would reach that far. I hope karma pays you back in fluffy kittens and stinky cheese and hours upon hours of sleep.

Posted by: -m. at December 12, 2007 02:34 PM (BIAeO)

12 Oh God. You've pretty much ensured I'll never try the mooncup! Wow. I think you've earned some wine. A.LOT.OF.WINE.

Posted by: Tracy at December 12, 2007 02:34 PM (zv3bS)

13 This is one of my fav posts of yours. Thanks for my first big grin of the day! And oh boy, have I BEEN THERE on the period thing; bleeding all over my pants in some store and trying to get out before anyone sees. If it hasn't happened to anyone reading this, I don't know how to explain the panic and shame. Awful. But it's still funny when it happens to somebody ELSE! HAHAHAHAHAHA! And I can't believe that woman told you the twins *died*, OH GOOD GOD! And again, I laugh really hard because well...what else can one do? You either laugh or cry at these kinds of stories and I can't cry Helen because you are too damn funny. Heh...

Posted by: The other Amber at December 12, 2007 02:50 PM (zQE5D)

14 laughing with you, not at you. Really. And also OW to the pad stickyness on the pubes!

Posted by: Donna at December 12, 2007 03:25 PM (R8oYq)

15 What a day! I dont understand tho,why all the other ppl in the queues at the post office and the supermarket dont let you go on ahead of them..I certainly would wave you on up. Those mooncups dont sound all that good to me.I think tampax have proved their place. You are as always,a joy to read Helen

Posted by: butterflies at December 12, 2007 03:31 PM (eWiSy)

16 Frozen turkey! I think I've found my newest excuse for anything I can't come up with an excuse for!! I remember reading a Post Secret about a girl who had fashioned a temporary pad out of toilet paper while she worked at Penney's or something. At some point during the day she lost her makeshift pad and wondered who had found it laying on the floor of the department store. Ergh. I think Santa owes you a few extra gifts under the tree this year. You ventured out, at Christmastime, with twins to the post office while Auntie Florence was raging.

Posted by: Michele at December 12, 2007 04:21 PM (h1vml)

17 Oh good lord. Definitely one of those "why me" moments! I hope you had a good glass of wine.

Posted by: Jen(aside) at December 12, 2007 04:34 PM (l4U17)

18 I have had my divacup slip like that once. It was horrendous. All of a sudden I felt like I'd peed myself, and it was warm... Luckily I was on my leather seats in my car and on my way home. I hadn't changed in like 10 hours so it was FULL. Ugh. Things will get better. They're gonna grow up so fast you won't believe it.

Posted by: Dani at December 12, 2007 05:29 PM (uZgK1)

19 Helen: :... and that's how my day went, Angus. How was your's?" Angus: " "

Posted by: physics geek at December 12, 2007 06:11 PM (MT22W)

20 I once sneezed and dislodged my Instead cup right before I had to catch a commuter train. My crotch looked like the prom scene in "Carrie".

Posted by: uccellina at December 12, 2007 06:14 PM (LNHH9)

21 Helen, you know I loves you, but this had me laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants and I am not one to do the belly laugh but I just did. Thank you!

Posted by: Cheryl at December 12, 2007 06:19 PM (n3lCA)

22 I don't post comments often, but I just had to say OMG, I didn't think that much could happen to one person in a day. Glad you made it back home.

Posted by: PJ at December 12, 2007 06:43 PM (I1U5a)

23 Oh sweetie. What a day! I think a LARGE bottle of wine is in order.

Posted by: caltechgirl at December 12, 2007 06:58 PM (/vgMZ)

24 Whoa, girl!! That is one of the worst (and funniest ~ sorry!) stories!! I hope the day got better.... You DID make me laugh into my coffee cup though!

Posted by: Bonnie at December 12, 2007 07:08 PM (ri1ak)

25 Nah. You'll do it again. You just get better with practice. Swear.

Posted by: Margi at December 12, 2007 07:26 PM (KF0g8)

26 When reading the start of this post I thought, "Mention the fact that you can't get to post Christmas cards because you have one baby. Also mention that you have used the phrase about bleeding like a stuck pig on this very day." As I continued reading my mind was a jumble of both pity, confusion, and hilarity. I'm so sorry you had such a fucked up day, but it makes for a fantastic blog post!

Posted by: MsPrufrock at December 12, 2007 07:49 PM (Z8R8p)

27 Bloody hilarious, but truly awful! I actually gasped and put my hand over my mouth in shock when you realised your mooncup had slipped!

Posted by: Super Sarah at December 12, 2007 08:51 PM (mKfJc)

28 Well, you have MORE than your hands full, I'd say. (I apologize for that one - don't hate me). My daughter used to hate going shopping with the twins because everyone stopped her and she got nothing done.

Posted by: kenju at December 12, 2007 09:03 PM (TiGru)

29 The only thing I can say to that? What a fucking nightmare! The only advice I can give is, one outing at a time. As much as I wanted to get out of the house, for me, it was one store, and home. They were good for one store. But more than once in and out of the car, and shit got crazy. There were times I did push it and stop more than once. It was never pretty. Not "frozen turkey" not pretty, cause your story is like nothing I've ever heard. But they have their way of letting you know you have taken on too much. Hang in there momma.

Posted by: Erica at December 13, 2007 01:40 AM (D6tE/)

30 You are still the Amazing Helen!!

Posted by: Steff at December 13, 2007 01:46 AM (xjmcr)

31 You need someone to stay with the babies while you are out running errands. Is there someone you would trust well enough to do this? It seems like a better solution. It will only get worse as they get older. Other than that, I think you are doing great and I think you are one hell of a terrific woman.

Posted by: Irene at December 13, 2007 04:30 AM (RL+iu)

32 You poor bitch, but like the others before me I was pissing myself laughing at a lot of your story. I think you need to pack a change of clothes for yourself as well as the babies in that nappy bag from now on.

Posted by: K (Australia) at December 13, 2007 05:07 AM (MlBPF)

33 Superwoman! I bow down to your immense coping powers.

Posted by: Veronica at December 13, 2007 11:27 AM (1Iu2a)

34 Oh dear. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, but my sympathy did not keep me from crying from laughter as I read it. Big hugs to you, girl.

Posted by: amy t. at December 13, 2007 04:06 PM (3dOTd)

35 And there was me thinking that it was a normal Christmas card, hmmmmm, now I am wondering if the envelope was red to begin with?!*

Posted by: Becks at December 13, 2007 04:30 PM (+EJYW)

36 That is hilarious. Thanks for letting me know those days dont always happen just to me. Hugs!

Posted by: That Girl at December 13, 2007 10:40 PM (E5+bX)

37 Wow. What a story. As a lurker, fan, and fellow Mooncup user, I am highly skeptical of the Mooncup's ability to provide full protection on heavy flow days. Unlike tampons, I find it to provide an experience that is all or nothing - dry and happy or drenching and embarrassed. I always supplement with a pad on heavy days and will even switch back to tampons on the heaviest days if I think a restroom is not going to be reliably half an hour from me at any point in time. Kudos to you on making it through the experience. And for sharing.

Posted by: Hortense at December 14, 2007 01:13 AM (iLdy/)

38 See that? THAT is why I read you. You make a tragedy of a day sound like the world's greatest comedic routine. That old lady in the store... oh geez. I hate it when somebody does that. (The other day, I saw an older lady friend who I hadn't seen in months and she was so nice and cheerful and then ended with telling me a mutual acquaintance has inoperable brain cancer. Uh, yeah, that's a great way to end a conversation.) I think I've also developed what to say when I see a mother with twins: "Can I help you with something?"

Posted by: B. Durbin at December 14, 2007 01:53 AM (tie24)

39 Oh my goodness! I just have to say that I love Nora. She's going to be a pistol and I fee sorry for anyone who gets in her way for, say, the next ninty years or so. The masturbating with red velvet cake statement had me spitting coffee at my monitor! The image! Hugs to you (as always) from Dallas.

Posted by: Stella at December 14, 2007 02:55 PM (sFS+Z)

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