Toy Reviews by the Typical PTA mom
I’m a normal mother, by most means. Growing up in the south has instilled in me values that probably date back to the Civil War (no elbows on the table, no sex before marriage-giggle-and those sorts of things). My mother, who would give Martha Stuart a run for her money, raised me that way. I learned from her that a lady doesn’t raise her voice, poke holes in her face, write steamy vampire novels, or review sex toys. I was also taught that a lady doesn’t talk about sex, write about sex, or have sex at all other than for the purposes of procreation. I just didn’t listen. As my paternal grandmother often says, we’re not ladies by any means. I guess I take after her a lot more than I’d ever thought I did. After all, what fun is not doing all of those things?
When I married at the age of eighteen, I was a traditional southern housewife. I did laundry, cooked, cleaned, took care of my tiny daughter-all while the hubs was at work. I also developed a very cliche’ liking to soap operas, aprons and Mr. Clean. Years later, reviewing sex toys changed things a bit. Instead of cleaning all day while the kiddos are at school, I’m reviewing and testing sex toys. I still wear my apron-sometimes during my testing sessions-and I still have an odd love for lemon scented Mr. Clean. I just show my appreciation for those things in a whole new way.
I feel compelled to tell other people, particularly other parents, that just because I seem a little different because of my lifestyle, I’m still a mother like all of the rest of you. I’m caffeine addicted like most of you, chain smoke like half of you, and I read tales by The Brothers Grimm to my children on a regular basis. My house has no BDSM style torture chamber-although, the thought has crossed my mind for the day when my youngest son goes to college-and I promise you, I’m not leading a prostitution ring, nor am I snogging any of your husbands. I have my own, thankyouverymuch. I also promise you that I’m not recruiting sex workers for porn flicks. I don’t get paid enough for that. Your daughters are safe.
That being said, adult toy reviewers are generally wonderful, well rounded, intelligent women (and men) who know how to make themselves happy and still manage to be awesome parents. Sometimes it’s hard for others in the small town that I live in to get that through their heads. We live in hee-haw. No kidding. Instead of joining a bridge club, or whatever the other women here do, I tend to cling to my few close friends. We chat online together about our kids, call every once in a while to complain about the weather and the garbage man not showing up when he’s supposed to, and nit-pick about things we wished we’d listened to our mothers about-like bad tattoos and potty training. I’m not that different than everyone else.
I do, however, have a very different schedule than most mothers around here. I get up early to make my husband’s lunch and send him out the door to work. Then, I get the kids up and get all four of them ready for school. After I spend a few minutes with my youngest son at the bus stop, I head home, start a load of laundry, answer emails, finish my coffee, and there’s where my day stops looking like a normal housewife’s day. That’s where the fun stuff starts.
After the coffee is gone, I read about whatever toy it is that I’m reviewing. Then, I dredge my way into the living room or bedroom-wherever I’m the most comfortable-and go to it. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, either. It’s fun, of course, but there is a lot more to testing toys and reviewing them than what most people think. There’s actually work involved. Who would have thought?
Reviewers look for things while they’re having all the fun with their new toys. We look for durability, functionality, texture, noise-level, performance (does it do what it’s supposed to do?), visual appeal, intensity, and also what all you can do with it. With insertable toys you sort of have to take on a toddler mentality (Hmm. I wonder where I can stick this?) because they’re very versatile, whether it’s a dildo, vibrator, or plug. We do all of this, not only because it can be really fun, so other people-who sometimes aren’t as open and comfortable about their sexualities as we are-know what they’re buying when they get a new toy.
Think about it. If you buy a toy and don’t realize what you’re getting, you can injure yourself. If someone reviews and tests the toy first, you might save yourself some pain and embarrassment, not to mention a trip to the ER in some cases. You’d be amazed at the people who bite off more than they can chew and wind up with a dildo lodged in their anus because they didn’t realize that without a big enough base, your anus can actually swallow items. Although, I’m sure you would provide an ER staff with plenty of entertainment to break the monotony in their busy days, it wouldn’t be very comfortable and you can receive some really horrible injuries that way. Reviewers and testers can save you the drama, and many of those reviewers that you rely on to save you from buying a dildo for something you should be buying a plug for are mothers just like me-sometimes fathers, too.
Many of us, not just me, are just simple men and women who pay our taxes and whine about the weather, go to PTA meetings and stare down the street every time that same suspicious gray car goes by-then call all the neighbors to see if anyone else saw it, too-and many of us enjoy our other jobs when we find an hour to ourselves, after we figure out who was driving the gray car, though. Safety first.
Moral of this story is this: We’re just people like you are. We just do things differently, and sometimes think on a different plane. Maybe my mother was right about one thing. You should never judge a book by its cover.