Check ch-check check
It's been nearly a year since Maggie was born, and I am still 8 pounds away from my former pre-mommy figure. Bollucks Bollucks Bollucks. Fat-Ass Bollucks.
I also discovered I still struggle with another lingering problem.
I was hanging out at my parents house Sunday with 2 of my sisters. I got sucked into the strangely entertaining cheerleading movie "Bring it on".
One would think this movie would be the pinnacle of cheesiness. So cheesy that you would have to take a steaming hot shower and scrub vigourously with a loofah to remove the coating of cheese left by watching it. That however, is not the case.
For some reason, I find the ditzy craftiness of the character played by Kristin Dunst to be alltogether endearing. It's also fun to watch all the cheerleading moves that I can't do, and never have been able to do. I was never a cheerleader. Cheerleaders at my high school were NOT cool. Not at all. People made mooing sounds and threw snowballs at them at pep rallies. The one exception being the Basketball Cheerleaders. They totally rocked.
The basketball cheerleading squad was made up of about 8 girls. All eight women were black, and nearly half of them brought their children to school with them. They were a sight to see. They didn't just lead cheers. These women could FUCKING DANCE. They put everyone to shame. They made the danceline look like a group of large breasted Scandinavian white chicks with no sense of rhythm. Which was what most of them actually were.
The basketball cheerleaders had attitude. They were good and they knew it. They would strut out, the music would start and they would GO OFF. All in unison, all perfectly coordinated.
Check ch-check-check
Check ch-check-check
Check ch-check check
Check us out check us out.....
So in this movie, the squad from Compton was the best BY FAR. The Suburban white girls were good, but not as good as the girls from Compton.
At any rate, after watching this movie, My sisters Molly, Betsy and I were inspired to go out in the front yard and try out some moves. None of us sisters were ever cheerleaders. We are all totally uncoordinated and three of the four of us would be considered tall. Tall and uncoordinated makes for really bad cheerleaders.
Ironically though, the tallest and probably MOST uncoordianted sister, Molly (sorry Molly), is the best cheerleader, but more in a comical Gilda Radner Physical sketch comedy kind of a way. She gets this exhuberantly dingy expression on her face, jumps up with her entire 6 foot person and does that #1! thing where she bounces and points her index finger with alarmingly convincing mock enthusiasm. Then she does this jumping thing with her long arms and legs. It's quite a sight, three full grown, tall, uncoordinated women in the front yard of their parents house leaping around like idiots and doubling over with side splitting laughter. Making a mockery of themselves and their cheering ineptitude and seeming to find it all hysterically funny.
This is how we entertain ourselves.
This is also how I discovered that I still have some bladder control issues.
My first ad-libbed cheerleading move left me covering my crotch, and running to the bathroom laughing.
Except it's really not funny to pee your pants and have your sister recommend "Depends" as an option.
I know I am supposed to do what are called "kegels" which are exercises that you are supposed to do to remedy this. Basically you clench and unclench the muscles you use to pee. Over and over and over again. I always forget to do them, and when I DO, I feel like I look like my daughter Maggie when she takes a poop in her diaper. Pause, look off to the side, concentrate hard for a moment, and then resume what you were doing. I always forget to do them. When I do remember, I try to make up for lost time and do like 50 at a time, which makes me worry that I will get a muscle cramp in my urethra.
Can a person get a muscle cramp in their urethra?
If it's possible, I will find out. I am certain of it.
If I want to at least make the B squad without cheering in a puddle of pee, that is.
I also discovered I still struggle with another lingering problem.
I was hanging out at my parents house Sunday with 2 of my sisters. I got sucked into the strangely entertaining cheerleading movie "Bring it on".
One would think this movie would be the pinnacle of cheesiness. So cheesy that you would have to take a steaming hot shower and scrub vigourously with a loofah to remove the coating of cheese left by watching it. That however, is not the case.
For some reason, I find the ditzy craftiness of the character played by Kristin Dunst to be alltogether endearing. It's also fun to watch all the cheerleading moves that I can't do, and never have been able to do. I was never a cheerleader. Cheerleaders at my high school were NOT cool. Not at all. People made mooing sounds and threw snowballs at them at pep rallies. The one exception being the Basketball Cheerleaders. They totally rocked.
The basketball cheerleading squad was made up of about 8 girls. All eight women were black, and nearly half of them brought their children to school with them. They were a sight to see. They didn't just lead cheers. These women could FUCKING DANCE. They put everyone to shame. They made the danceline look like a group of large breasted Scandinavian white chicks with no sense of rhythm. Which was what most of them actually were.
The basketball cheerleaders had attitude. They were good and they knew it. They would strut out, the music would start and they would GO OFF. All in unison, all perfectly coordinated.
Check ch-check-check
Check ch-check-check
Check ch-check check
Check us out check us out.....
So in this movie, the squad from Compton was the best BY FAR. The Suburban white girls were good, but not as good as the girls from Compton.
At any rate, after watching this movie, My sisters Molly, Betsy and I were inspired to go out in the front yard and try out some moves. None of us sisters were ever cheerleaders. We are all totally uncoordinated and three of the four of us would be considered tall. Tall and uncoordinated makes for really bad cheerleaders.
Ironically though, the tallest and probably MOST uncoordianted sister, Molly (sorry Molly), is the best cheerleader, but more in a comical Gilda Radner Physical sketch comedy kind of a way. She gets this exhuberantly dingy expression on her face, jumps up with her entire 6 foot person and does that #1! thing where she bounces and points her index finger with alarmingly convincing mock enthusiasm. Then she does this jumping thing with her long arms and legs. It's quite a sight, three full grown, tall, uncoordinated women in the front yard of their parents house leaping around like idiots and doubling over with side splitting laughter. Making a mockery of themselves and their cheering ineptitude and seeming to find it all hysterically funny.
This is how we entertain ourselves.
This is also how I discovered that I still have some bladder control issues.
My first ad-libbed cheerleading move left me covering my crotch, and running to the bathroom laughing.
Except it's really not funny to pee your pants and have your sister recommend "Depends" as an option.
I know I am supposed to do what are called "kegels" which are exercises that you are supposed to do to remedy this. Basically you clench and unclench the muscles you use to pee. Over and over and over again. I always forget to do them, and when I DO, I feel like I look like my daughter Maggie when she takes a poop in her diaper. Pause, look off to the side, concentrate hard for a moment, and then resume what you were doing. I always forget to do them. When I do remember, I try to make up for lost time and do like 50 at a time, which makes me worry that I will get a muscle cramp in my urethra.
Can a person get a muscle cramp in their urethra?
If it's possible, I will find out. I am certain of it.
If I want to at least make the B squad without cheering in a puddle of pee, that is.
7 Comments:
The spasm in the urethra line is hysterical Meghan. Hillarious. Who else would think of that. While a spasm may be possible, not likely from Kegels,but I understand the concern. smile.
Your Kegal face! Ha! Hee! Hoo!
Holy moly, you are funny. I want photos of y'all doing a pyramid.
Dude. I have the leaking pee issue too. But I can't do kegels because they totally turn me on and/or make me feel as though I have to urinate. Seriously. It is horrible. My doctor told me to do them at every red light, but there is no way I could possibly do that because then I would be stopping the car to go find a bathroom...
Welcome to the joys of motherhood. Let me help you out now....mom to mom, friend to friend.
Trampolines + No Kegals = Wet pants and hysterically laughing children. on't ask me how I know. Just trust me on this one.
I bought some of those "benwa" balls (no idea how to spell that) to help tighten up the ol' kegal. Hmmmm. Turns out those balls had no intentions of staying in place. They just slid right out. Did not help with the peeing pants issue. Did, however, give my husband a good laugh.
my mother suggested to me a few years ago that i put a post-it on my dashboard that says "DO KEGELS!". ummmm, ok mom, that will definitely get me the guy.
I love that movie. (And in my day, it was so NOT COOL to have anything to do with cheerleaders.)
And just eight pounds to get to your pre-baby weight? That's actually VERY GOOD.
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