The Vagina Games

OK, sometimes you come across things that just scream "blog me."

More and more I am convinced that our electronic devices have the ability to 'hear' us. So often after speaking in your home about certain subjects you'll find corresponding ads on your social media feeds.

But I swear to you, I have NOT googled, blogged, spoken about, nor even thought about using my my vagina as a sporting device. But this ad has been popping up on my Facebook feed this week.

What the heck!!?!!


There's a device that allows you to participate in vagina games.

Ok, Ok. You can get all offended.

But if you've given birth to three or more children, you know.

The struggle is real.

Dr Arnold Kegel and his exercises make sense. They really do. (I'm sure there's not a woman alive who doesn't know what Kegel exercises are.)

But following through on them is another story.

But some genius has invented a device that allows you to do the Kegel exercises and save your progress.

But just imagine...

If they set this up as an online competition...

You'd get bonus points for the more kids you've pushed through your birthing canal and were still able to compete.
Ok, the whole thing is bizarre.

I was originally marginally offended.

But really...

Imagine competing, encouraging, accomplishing ...

The Vagina Games. I see it all now.

And the results would be that women everywhere would feel free to laugh. Free to jump on trampoline. Free to sneeze.

Stuff just got real...

 Ok. Stuff just got real. 

JimE and I have been planning to build a house for a little over a year now. We've since gotten married, hung with Jed for a year of COVID, purchased a lot, edited a house plan, sold his house, and watched our new house evolve into more house than I initially envisioned.

All these steps. 

All these moments. 

And what punched me in the guts? A cardboard box. 

The other day we got an Amazon delivery. It came in a decent sized box. 

"Let's keep this box for packing." 

A simple enough statement. 

But it packed a punch. 

We are moving. 

In about eight weeks. 

In about eight weeks our new house will be finished and we will be handed an occupancy permit. 

Yikes! 

Jim has been working hard to do the things that need to be done to make this house we are in bring us the best return for the least investment. 

And now it's my turn. 

Sort through the stuff. 

Weed out the stuff. 

Downsize. 

Pack only the stuff you need. 

Our new house isn't a tiny house by no means, but it's not huge neither. And it's a contemporary style with clean lines that will lend itself to being clutter free.

Today was "clean out your office" day. 

My office has a number of drawers and closets full of shelves. 

I have lived in this house for over 16 years. And in those closets, shelves and drawers I found stuff I haven't actually looked at for 35 years. 

I had no idea that in those drawers held envelopes of photos. Boxes of cards. And folders of memories. 

It took me many hours to go through stuff that probably should have taken only an hour or so. 

And I'm torn. 

I don't actually know how to deal with this stuff. 

I don't actually know what to throw away. What to keep. 

I don't want to pack crap I don't need. 

I don't want to frivolously toss stuff. 

I don't want to regret things that can't be undone. 

I don't want my kids to have to sort unnecessary stuff when it comes time for them to sort our stuff... 

In the bottom drawer of my cabinet I found a stash of stuff that I honestly didn't even remember I had: all the cards from Ben's baby shower. All the cards from his funeral. Oi. 

These are more than 35 years old. 

Do I need to pack them with me?

Can I shred them? 

I'm torn. 

I'm not actually asking for insight and opinion here. I'm simply working through things I gotta work through. And I resorted to my time-tested resource of blogging to blab it all out.. 

It's so weird to be living my best life. Yet having already lived my best life. Having so many heart memories. Having so much in the present, and so many dreams for the future. 

Grateful, grateful I am. 

...but I still gotta clean up this office of mine. 

Everything is laid out in semi organized piles of "keep" "shred" "salvation army" and "I dunno what to do with."