Gosh Estee. . .I'm so sorry you suffered through this. My mother couldn't be bothered to let me know about this stuff before hand. I came home from school one day with a note from my teacher and my poor poor grandfather was left to deal with me. He did the only thing he could do. . .hug me, and head to the store. He bought one of EVERYTHING that was on the shelves there. I learned "on the fly" you might say. My mother was horribly abusive to me; she too used my monthly "guest" as just another way to humilate me. I was a dancer in middle school, and made me "prove" that I was too heavy to continue using traditional methods for my cycles. I had to "earn" tampons each month for dance class. She gloried in my misery.

Wouldn't it be awesome if we could all find an island somewhere. . .and put the mothers on it.