Precise Placement (tm)

I don't know about y'all, but I love & fully appreciate the edifying comments offered on my behalf by the people who live in this house with me. While I sometimes struggle with compliments given by friends or acquaintances, I have no problems letting my family lavish the praise. They can pour it on thick and I'll just swim right with that current. I mean, come on...my daughters & husband actually believe I'm beautiful! Like Grace Kelly gorgeous. Wow! Scott is convinced I'm going to write the next great American novel...any day now! (And then he can retire!) Caroline tells me several times a day that I'm her "best friend." Awwww. Libbey wants to know why I'm busting my baby-got-back-boo-tay on the elliptical machine because, as she exclaims convincingly, "But you're not fat, Mommy!" Best. Daughter. Ever. EVER! Remind me to get her eyes checked.

Yes, praise & affirmation are good things. I'll happily take that form of glory whenever and wherever I receive it, even if it's the thousandth "You so pretty!" I've heard from Caroline on any given day. Sometimes we are blessed with compliments from total strangers ("I love your purse/shoes/haircut!" or "Your child is really well-behaved."), and then we have those moments when a pal rocks our world ("I'm proud to have you for a friend!"), and life just feels perfect, even if for a moment.

I don't know what problems, struggles, or trials any of you are facing right now. I can't even begin to imagine the issues some of you are dealing with on a daily basis. Stressed out, worn out, burnt out, flat out on the floor...whatever you're feeling today, I can offer you support via generous offerings of encouragement. That's what friends are for, of course.

But there's one other thing I can grant by way of edification. Trot your little merry self down to Walmart, Target, or wherever you purchase various sundries and such, and pick up a box of Playtex Sport tampons.

Yes, you read that correctly. Playtex Sport. The box is pink and green (a bonus right there, as those happen to be my two favorite colors, as well as the required hues of preppies around the world) and emblazoned with hair-swinging gals shaking their groove thang, wanting us to fully believe that we can get down, girl, go 'head, get down while menstruating. Can I get a woot-woot up in here? (Some Kanye & Jamie Foxx would be rad, too.)

Why tampons, you ask? No, it's not 'cause they've just added a free Snickers bar with every purchase. (Tiffany, why aren't the tampon peeps reading your blog?) Nor is it because I want all you gals to experience the joy that is "360 degree coverage," as stated on the back of the box. It's because each and every Playtex Sport wrapper is adorned with encouraging, edifying statements the likes of which you will not believe. Here we go y'all:

*You've got the moves! (While wearing a tampon? Maybe it's the "Oops, didn't get this in all the way" shimmy that sometimes occurs. Too much information, eh?)

*Go the extra mile! (In this tampon! In fact, go 50 miles--see if it holds out. Then I'll be impressed!)

*Girl, you Rock! (Yeah, I rock the Granny Panties, as I'll not risk my coveted Body by Victoria Secret drawers during this time of the month!)

*Life is a sport...play to win! (Playtex 10--Kotex--0! Go, Playtex, Go!)

*Challenge yourself. (To find a better form of internal protection.)

*Show your period who's captain. (Aye-Aye, sir! Wait, am I the Captain or is my period? )

*Who cares if you win or lose--play the game! (I care, especially if this thing leaks and I have to add an extra step to my laundry duties! That ain't no way to play the game, folks!)

And my own personal favorite:

*Take the Plunge! (OK, sure...let me get a firm grasp on this "no-slip-grip" plunger here and I'll be takin' it to the streets. Well, not the streets. You know what I mean. Ew.)

I should have prefaced this post by saying that I am an enormous reader. I'll read whatever's in front of me. Cereal box, shampoo (I have the Biolage Normalizing Shampoo description memorized!), junk mail, my husband's medical journals (lancing a boil located near the perineum? Ewwwwww!), or even a magazine I've already flipped through 13 times. But I can honestly say that I've never read a tampon label, or even checked to see if anything other than "Do Not Flush Applicator" is written upon one. Imagine my surprise last month when I looked down at the little green wrapper and found, "Girl, you rock!" staring back at me. I told a friend, "I just received a written 'hug' of affirmation from my tampon! Did you know that I rock?" Since we were talking via phone I cannot verify her eye rolling, but I'm quite certain those pupils moved in a small circular motion, whether she'll admit it or not.

Truthfully, I am rather thankful I didn't stumble upon (or should I say "squat?") this discovery while using a public restroom. Now I'm gonna get totally real here, and I apologize if you're offended in any way. Because I for one think there is nothing worse than having to deal with tampon insertion while a line of strangers stand a mere six feet away.

Can she see through this crack in the door?
Gross, this stall is nasty!
How fast can I do this without it being obvious as to what's going down in here?

Had I read, "Girl, you rock!" while in the bathroom at Old Navy, I'm quite certain my whoop of joy (Yep, it says so right here on this wrapper--whether you believe it or not, I rock!) would have been relayed throughout the store on those annoying headsets worn by their employees:

Uh, Linda...you getting this? Some chick in here is freaking out in stall #4...oh, Lord, bring the mop, it'll probably be bad.

Yes, God is good in that He knows when to preserve my integrity. And it's obviously not here, as I am doing an entire post on t-a-m-p-o-n-s. I might as well throw in sphincter, bowel movement, vulva, and Brazillian wax, just in keeping with the general theme of this area.

(Just now my mother exited Lulaville and is currently preparing her faux admonishment at my discussing this in "public." Hey, Mama--at least it's not boobs, my preferred body part. I'm saving my breast feeding glory stories for later on.)

There you have it, ladies. Dress 'em up in little skirts and hand 'em some pom-poms. Team Playtex Sport is ready to cheer you through whatever dark hour may come your way. The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders may have their own reality TV show and other ample endowments, but they've got nothing on the support that comes from the wrapper of internal protection, rooting us on through cramps, bloating, zits, and that overall not-so-fresh feeling we experience every month. The tampon...weapon of choice for really mean high school girls (witness: the shower scene in Carrie), and a good solution for a bleeding nose (raise your hand, Sex and the City fans--poor, poor Steve...walking in on Miranda & Robert, and oh, the humiliation...).

The tampon, redeeming itself by providing mini cheers in a box. And really, y'all...couldn't we use a few more encouraging shout-outs in our day? Rah-rah-rah, my tampon says I rock and I have the moves. Nanny-nanny-boo-boo!