Poop, science, and naming body parts

Everybody poops. Taboo of a subject as it is, the rules change when you have children. As infants you worry if they are pooping too much or not enough. As Toddlers you just WISH THEY WOULD POOP IN THE POTTY and not elsewhere. As Preschoolers, they simply like to talk about it themselves, as if it were a hobby or some other interesting aspect of the day.

I normally discourage this type of dinner conversation, but since we were sitting out on the deck watching a spider ‘poop’ out his (or her) web, it somehow seemed fitting for Gavin, Brady & I to begin naming other species that ‘poop’ odd things. Like spiderwebs. Or earthworms pooping dirt. And yes, even chickens pooping eggs.

Which, naturally, leads me to my next topic: ‘pooping’ babies.

My son is pretty smart. He’s seen enough of my undie-pant and swimsuit-clad body to know that there just isn’t some trap door they pop out of. And of course the belly-button is way too small. Besides, he’s watched plenty of circle-of-life documentaries on the Discovery Channel to witness countless mommy animals ‘pooping’ out their babies. So I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised the other day when he asked me if it was true if I ‘pooped’ him out when he was born.

After I composed myself from my fit of giggles (and changed the subject VERY quickly), I got to thinking….I always thought I would be one of those matter-of-fact science-y parents who explains everything in proper terms with text book in hand. SURPRISE!!! I’m NOT!!!

Somehow, the thought of a four-year-old having access to that kind of knowledge is very scary to me. And given the obsessive comedy the word ‘wiener’ carries in our household…. right now I am content with the term “pee pee” as an androgynous organ that eliminates urine from both male and female bodies – and does nothing else.

So if you happen to be standing in at the local Wal-Mart, and a little voice rings out loud and clear: “Hey Mom, do all of these ladies have vaginas?” Please note that this is NOT my child.

please remind me why we have children

I love my son. No really, I do. Despite the occasional threat to sell him on the black market, to the gypsies, or even auction him away on Ebay. He really is a good boy - well mannered and fun to be around. Just not yesterday.

The defense presents Exhibit #1: Gavin & I decide it would be fun (and give mommy some much-needed exercise) if we were to ride my bike to the PO box, instead of driving. This would normally not be a huge production, except it was the first ride of the year, so we had to clean out and assemble Gavin’s snazzy little bike trailer. Helpy Helperkins that he is, (and slightly obsessive about the water hose) Gavin announces that HE is going to do the spraying. So I think - knock yourself out kiddo, I’ve got to figure out where I “stored” the canvas top last fall anyway…

After 15 minutes or so, I finally locate the missing pieces - and deliver them to the front yard, where he is happily blasting the carrier from all angles. Typical summery Norman Rockwell you’re thinking, right? This is where it gets ugly. It had started to sprinkle, and in the interest of completing the task and getting in the house to let the rain pass, I **GASP** grab the hose and start filling the soap bucket with water!!! You would have thought I had ripped his arm off, or at the very least shoved his beloved Mama Elephant in the toilet. Oh….my….Lord… He SHREIKED that I was not supposed to TOUCH the hose, threw his washcloth down on the ground and said that he was done helping.

Probably not the smartest thing to say to your stubborn, ornery mother whom is going through all of this extra work to take YOU for a freakin’ bike ride instead of just driving there like we do every day, right? I promptly sent mister stink-pants into the house amid a chorus of more screeching, and I finished the cleaning by myself. We did, however, drive to the freakin’ PO box.

Exhibit #356: We get home from the pool and guess what the mailman delivered? One of those fake little car dealership keys that they sometimes send you, supposedly so you think you already have the keys to your new car, you just have to stop in and pick it out (oh, and pay for it). Gavin LOVES these things - he has several of them on a key ring, and pretends they are for his trucks, tractors and other little boy toys. Only yesterday, he was convinced that THIS particular key actually unlocks our house. After a 5 minute dissertation on WHY nobody would simply MAIL us a key that fits our house locks, curiosity got the best of him, and he started jamming the fake key into our front door. I envisioned having to re-key all the locks, and this pretty much sent me over the edge. I snapped. I may or may not have threatened to sell him to the gypsies if he didn’t get that (insert bad word here) into my (different bad word) locks!!

That’s when the waterworks began again, for the 502,036th time that day. He started wailing that he wanted a key for our doors, at louder and louder volumes and higher and higher pitches. Among the chaos of the day, I had forgotten to unload the other half (non-cold foods) from my truck, and figured this would be a GREAT time to do so. Yep, cranky-pants follows me out of the house screaming “I WANNA DOOR KEY”. Only in hysteric-ese, it sounded more like “I’m a DORKY!!!!!”

I admit, my son blasting the neighborhood that he is a ‘dorky’ did somewhat soften the Steel Curtain of Mommy. But it was also a good thing that Daddy came home 20 minutes later. Someone again please remind me why we have children?

A day of firsts

Hello world! I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for some time now. Admittedly, my family alone provides enough fodder to fill VOLUMES of internet posts (as those who follow my facebook page already know). But somehow committing to an actual blog seemed far beyond the comprehension of my ADD brain...and somewhat scary!

Soooooooo....here goes nothing!

Today was a day of firsts. My first blog post, our neighbor's first day with central air (I know this because I am home all day and have become somewhat of a neighborhood snoop), but most importantly, it was Gavin's first day of Preschool!

I don't why I was expecting differently, but he took to preschool just like anything else in life: with complete and total reckless abandon. I don't even think he looked up when he yelled 'bye mom' from the across the room when I left him this morning. He was already completely immersed, and I had yet to leave the room.

I got home and went about my daily activities, waiting for 5:00 to pick him up and hear about his first day. Boy, did I get an earful! He blabbered the whole ride home about whom he played with and what they played, and the names of his teachers and how he is in the 'Caterpillar' group, even though he wishes he was in the 'Butterfly' group because they are 5 years old and his buddy Easton is in that group....

His verbal skills continue to amaze me, expecially when they can be so randomly accurate. At the dinner table tonight he told us: "I'm glad I go to Preschool now, because daycare is so lame".

Yep, that's my boy!