More times I wanted to crawl in a hole!

Do you ever hear things coming out of your kids mouths and instinctively want to cram it back in, or even pinch them really hard? This is my life. These moments of horror are filled in with moments that have to look at my daughter and just shake my head. So now i will dictate out a few of the old mommy traumatic conversations:
We are at Discount tire speaking with a very sweet old lady. I am certain she has left some cookies baking in the oven. My little girl is about 2 1/2 at this time. The lady is marveling at how well my daughter speaks. In her marvel she naively engages her in a discussion about what a big girl she is.
" You are very smart. Such a big girl."
Me," Thank you"
"She speaks so well and is absolutely beautiful" My daughter is dancing in the glory of these compliments by now.
Me," Thank you, the trick is getting her to stop!"
Her'" I'm a big girl. My mommy is a big girl too. My Daddy has a big penis"
" Excuse me dear?'" No doubt a breath away from reciting a hail Mary.
Me," Come over hear dear and let this nice lady have some peace and quite"
I attempt to appear unnerved as I scoop her up and venture outside to find Daddy. As the door closes I swear I hear the sound of nails on a rosary, but I could be paranoid!

After a very lengthy afternoon of nonstop gabbing from my beloved little one, we stop for lunch. Daddy runs in to grab our food, seeing as I don't eat in public (acknowledging the craziness here give me credit). I suggest , OK I may have used a slightly threatening tone, that my daughter not talk for the next five minutes. Something about mommy on the verge of an aneurysm. Minute 1, she does well, minute 2 holding on, minute 3 a bit fidgety, minute 4 about to burst from within. I actually hear a whistling sound coming out of her ears, maybe not. Minute 5 " SOOOOOOO, what do you know about squirrels, I know they eat nuts and stuff!!!!" all in one breath. All I can do is turn and look at her. The weirdest part is we live in the desert. I don't think she has even really seen a squirrel before.

One day we head out to the new shiny Smith's down the street. Nothing interesting happens so I will jump to the check out line. It seems to always go down in the check out line! The nice cashier in her crisp new vest, complete with fold lines, offers my girl a sticker and asks how she is doing. " I'm good. I start school soon and my Daddy's at the psych hospital!" The woman's Chiclet smile twitches a bit and she uncomfortably looks my way." NO! NO! Daddy is helping to build the psych hospital!!" Then I have to blurt out the hole story about his going to help put the finishing touches on the mental hospital opening next week. I don't think I inhaled between sentences because I was dizzy and sweating as we walked away. So now that he is building the prison we made sure to teach her " Daddy is BUILDING the prison, not AT the prison".

We have always been honest with our daughter about body parts. As you can tell by the penis episode before mentioned. We only give her information we find suitable for her age. People assume that since she knows vagina that she knows some gratuitous information on the part. Totally not the case, until.... When I was pregnant with sweet little DD I would receive the emails detailing the growth of the baby, how fat your feet should be and the best way to treat those pesky hemorrhoids. You know the emails! They have the side profile drawing of the baby's development in the uterus. My daughter loved to see that her brother finally had legs or eyelashes. So one day we are looking at the profile of Jane pregnant lady. My daughters eyes squint a bit and she gets a weird look on her face. Her porcelain face smooths as she is filled with a moment of clarity. " Mommy, did you know the baby is going to come out of your vagina??? Are you ready for that?!?!?!?!" She peers at me a bit nervous and somewhat disturbed. I try to scan the page for the word " vagina", nowhere. " So, how did you figure that out? " My six year old looks at me like I'm an idiot for thinking she is an idiot, at this point we are visually insulting each other. " I just looked at the picture. It seems to be the only way out. It's gonna hurt you!"
" Yes, I am aware of the hurting thing. Thanks"

Too gross to title...

Poor Darling D is on Augmentin to clear up his unfortunate case of ear cooties. He seems to be improving thankfully! He was finishing breakfast while I filled the tub with his inch and a half of water and prepared his Vaseline covered cotton balls( I will be so grateful when we pass the month mark on this tube situation and we can bath like normal). I go to get the delightful little buddy from his high chair. Such a happy boy! I lift him up , down his leg runs the Mississippi River, minus the the pee! It is straight down his pudgy leg resting at his ankle. I am startled and confused for a split second, reality comes across me," BRACKEN, HELP!!!!!!!" He runs in, surveys the situation and backs away a little. Now my husband, you must understand, has a huge aversion to poop. He will change diapers and things like that, but once it has left its little absorbent containment unit, he is done. He gags and coughs, laughs and yells. It is actually a very funny scene on the rare occasion that we have a blowout emergency. He looks at me with his pleading eyes, I think he is considering attempting to run to the garage. Like a good man he stays. I yell for him to grab the baby's wiggly foot before the brown lava can drip off onto the floor. He winces grabs on and we run to the bathroom. We look at the meager inch and a half of fluid in the tub," I don't think that's going to help," he says. I stand the drippy boy in the tub look at removing his overalls, not a chance. We proceed to hose him off, fully clothed, with the shower attachment. All the while my fabulous husband is yelling out things like: Gross, on my God it's everywhere, no no don't touch that buddy, your so nasty little boy, it isn't coming off. Add a few gags, coughs and my hysterical laughter and you have America's funniest home video, good times! After significant hosing I remove the baby's clothes then eventually his diaper. He is sitting pleasantly in the tub loving the refreshing spray of the water. He occasionally tries to pick up some of the stew like diaper contents as they cruise toward the drain, so foul. We have to keep grabbing his hands and rinsing them, please do not put them in your mouth for the love of all things holy! I finish him off my washing him with soap head to toe twice, three times for his little mitts, and get him out of the tub. I run D to his room whilst wiping the tears from my eyes on the towel and quickly wrap a fresh diaper on his bottom. I briefly wonder if two would be helpful, I just did it tighter than usual. Damn, he has been trying to walk a lot lately, he needs to feel his legs, I loosen it a hair. I mention to my husband that the high chair is full of poop. " Your taking care of that! I did the hard part already". For all of you that didn't know it "the hard part" is apparently holding a shower hose yelling like a girl while your wife scrapes crap out of the baby's ass crack. As you probably already figured out, he's cleaning the high chair! Since he has said aversion to fecal matter and refuses to touch such substance he proceeds to drag the chair in the front yard and hose it off! I am dead serious! I can imagine what the neighbors saw. Plus I can't help but think it will mange to attract wild animals to our yard, thanks dear.



Before posting this I read it my husband who wants to state that he was not gagging or coughing and I am exaggerating!

I can no longer use that line at target!

When my sweet lovely daughter was younger she hated to use toothpaste. You know the kind of hate where I have to straddle her in the bathroom and scrub her teeth while she cries. Don't judge me, I am well prepared to pay her therapy bill one day. Besides it is just a glimpse of the things she'll be laying on a leather couch about. So we went to target with said toothpaste hater to let her pick out new flavor of sand ingrained tooth polish. This was not a happy occasion for the little miss. We discussed how important the junk was to keep her tiny teeth pretty and healthy. She is not concerned. Fast forward to the check out. My husband and I notice a very audible speech impediment of the cashier in the line we chose. I assume she is perhaps hearing impaired, my husband who is closer flat out thinks she's retarded, hey his words not mine, back off! Then my precious little angel blurts out, " WOW, lady!!!!! You're missing a lot of TEETH!" My lord the room grew dark, apologies fell out of my mouth in delirious cession! The woman was very nice about it(still possibly on the handicap side I think).She said it was fine and told her it's because she doesn't have good health insurance. Ok, politely settled one would assume. NO!!! Somehow I managed to pick my foot up and jam it straight into my big fat mouth! Still covered in sweat I point out to my daughter, recollecting the ideas we were trying to instill in her earlier, " See that's why you need to use toothpaste". Apparently not the best place to forward this little lesson to her because the once understanding cashier rages out, " I brush my teeth!!!!!". I sheepishly try to back out and explain the origin of our trip. I think I even drooled a little. I look to my husband for salvation. He is desperately trying to get through using his debit card while pretending he is not with us. As if she will assume he is some stranger taking pity on us and paying for our goods. We finish and my cheeks have the scalding burn of shame. My husband looks laughs at me and asks, " What was that, just couldn't shut up could you?" I try to apologize to him. He keeps laughing and informs me if his card wasn't already in the machine he would have walked away. For better or worse my ass!