Diva in Training

*Content warning*

If you think this post is about Naya or Sienna, it’s not. It is about becoming a Diva…in a cup. Once a month.

If you are a man who stumbled onto this particular post, welcome! You will find here a subject that you likely do not want to know about. I vow that I will not be offended if you stumble away now. Derek….Dave…I’m waiting.

If you are a woman who has ever had a menstrual accident, been without a much needed menstrual aide, or been fiercely disappointed that you’re not always protected as promised this is for you.

***

Since Christine Fransisco taught me how to use tampons I’ve always been a fan of OB. Neat little things, easy to insert and always protecting. Always. Never mind those applicators that caused me more grief and discomfort than I care to describe. OB is to the point. Peal back wrapper. Position on tip of your finger….and in you go. Period.

But it seems my daughters like them too. Naya has always liked to see how many she could fit in every nook in the house, every pocket, every purse, bag, and on far too many occasions my tampons have rolled out of everywhere including my business portfolio during a strategic partner meeting with a man who didn’t have kids. Sienna for her part, likes to gum them like teethers. It seems they are firm and yet spongy to really sooth gums.

Now before you go judging me and wondering how it came to be that we even discovered this, let me clarify that she picked one up after it rolled out of my Tupperware drawer (where Naya had placed about 8 OB’s) and was at an age where everything went into her teething little mouth. Needless to say, finding tampons everywhere was kinda funny to me but not so much to Al who asked that I lock them up already.

So when the other day, at a health food/organic everything store I came upon the Diva Cup, I put everything down and reached for the box. Hmmm….no more pads? No more tampons? No more possible leaks? No more running out because I ran out? Let’s give it whirl.

This week I started my training. Wash. Separate. Roll into a sphere. Insert. Allow to “pop” open and presto, no more period. No running to the bathroom every couple of hours to change anything. The only mildly intimidating aspect is the insertion of a small clear silicon cone that I have to admit takes some practice to get right.

So here I am, a diva in training. Thrilled about the possible freedom with only the lingering doubt being that my cone doesn’t quite pop but nevertheless “seals”.

And the bonus? I’m not polluting the sewers or the landfills, I don’t have to worry about toxic shock syndrome (which is much higher if you use the super absorbency and let’s get real, if you’ve had a kid (much less two or more) you don’t bother with anything less), and I save  money.

It’s divine.

A.

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