When the kiddo first started talking I was so ecstatic. I was thrilled. He would finally be able to tell me what he wanted, when he wanted. At least that’s what I thought. Yea, I know you’re laughing right now. Blame it on new parenthood ideas. My friend has a 7month old and she is so excited for her baby girl to start talking. Ahh, the good ole’ days.

I’ll admit, when the kid started talking it was hilarious. When he would say “Cracker” and it sounded like ‘Crack Whore.’ He was at my dad’s house for the weekend and came back saying ‘Butthole’ which was ‘backhoe.’ He still hasn’t quite got the ‘K’ down yet either. The hubby and I like to have the kiddo say things like ‘My backhoe dirty’ or ‘Daddy has a big backhoe’ and of course my favorite “Cracker likes the Backhoe.’ It’s the simple things that make us smile. It also makes up for the moments when he just won’t shut up. Like tonight out at dinner.

Damn you family friendly restaurants with quarter candy machines at the entrance. Here is how our entire dinner went, over and over and over:
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Candy Please.”
“After dinner sweetie, but only if you behave” Whatever, my kids been eating candy before he had teeth. It’s not like you haven’t questioned my parenting skills before.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy Now. Mommy, Candy Now Please. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Money for Candy, Mommy, Candy Now Please. Money Now Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Money Now Candy Now, Mommy Please.”
“No. No Candy before dinner.” I say.

I just remember back to when he would just cry for what he wanted and I would pretend I knew what he wanted. It was so easy then. Those were the good ole’ days. Because even now, with him talking, if I respond with something he doesn’t like, he just cries anyway. It’s so much more acceptable to be in public with an infant crying, than a toddler screaming “Caaaannnndddddyyyy Mooooooooooooooommyyyyyyy.”

Flatter Me

I’m a stay at home mom.. Yes, I work from home as well, but my primary duties are to my little monster boy. He’s 2 and a half. I have been known to go one, two, three even four days without showering. Yea, Yea, gag, gross, whatever. But let me tell you the story of today and then see which you gag more at – me not showering for days or the aftermath of one 15 minute shower.

Showering consists of bribing the kid to stay in the bathroom while I shower. “Here, eat a cupcake on the bathroom floor while mommy showers.” I know you’re jealous of my awesome parenting skills. I get in the shower. Kid wolfed down cupcake in 1 minute. Door opens, he’s on his way out. Now the first time he ever ran out of the bathroom while I was in the shower I jumped out and chased after him in my naked glory just as the UPS guy was delivering a package at my front door. We have a floor to ceiling, solid glass window next to the front door. We have a large brick porch that sits back from the street, so normal passerbys can’t see in. It’s a whole other ball game if your standing on the porch in front of the window. He gave me a wave through his shock and my horror.

But I digress,

The kid runs out, I stay in the shower. 4 minutes later he runs back in naked. Sits on his little potty and does a little, tiny turd. I was pretty proud of the kid. He lifts up the little potty catcher and dumps the little, tiny turd into the big toilet and flushes. Freezing cold water for 30 seconds and the kid runs out again. All is silent in the house and I finish up the shower, rinse the conditioner out and as I’m turning the water off the kid runs in again. At that moment I prayed he scaled the bookshelf and got into every single piece of chocolate in his Easter basket and was currently carrying it.

But No.

That little, tiny turd he did? That was just the final act to a much larger, more liquid poop that was on the living room floor. The kid tried to clean it up himself. Props to him. However he used much of the clean laundry that was sitting on the coffee table to smear it around on the carpet. He did get a little distracted at some point and decided some of his hot wheels needed to go ‘Four Wheelin’ through it. Then the dogs needed to see what was going on, he felt the need to pet the doggies, while they sniffed and walked through the poop. At that point I think is when the kiddo decided to pick up the more solid pieces and walk them into the bathroom where I was just finishing up my shower. It was quite the inner debate on whether to go see what lies outside of that bathroom door first or clean him up.

I cleaned  him up, then walked into Poopie Armageddon. How that much poop came out of one little butt is beyond me. There were poopie paw prints, shit covered hot wheels, once clean laundry plastered with crap, and of course my area rug had been given the biggest Cleavland Steamer ever.

Was that 15 minute shower worth it? Hell No. I think you can agree.

Flatter Me