But apparently not quite as well as taking your baby out in public does!
In the last post I mentioned my monkey was having trouble passing things through his tiny digestive system. That problem resolved itself in a couple smallish explosions throughout the day after the post. However, in the last 48 hours, Parker has held it in. There has been a lot of grunting, kicking, screaming and crying on both of our parts in dealing with this issue. I was trying to just let him work it out, but finally this morning I called the doctor. I was PRAYING there was an ORAL...ORAL medicine I could give him to help out.
There is something I can give him.
And it ain't oral.
It's of the butt-insertion variety, aka suppositories.
I called the doctor on my way to the gym- yes I joined a gym near my house and they watch Parker while I attempt to get myself back to something resembling a woman and not a mom-blob. Anyway, the doctor told me about the baby "magic bullets" (if you have ever seen suppositories you are probably laughing now, if you have not, consider yourself lucky). Parker must have heard what we were saying and gotten very frightened. For when I was finishing the last set on the last machine I was doing today, a woman came over to me and said, "Do you have a baby in the daycare? He just pooped."
It is their policy not to change poopy diapers. Nice policy, eh?
By the way, she is being very general when she calls what my son did, poop. It was an explosion worthy of note on CNN or MSNBC. The crawl below would warn the public not to inhale unless absolutely necessary. The graphic over the reporters shoulder would be of woman and children running away with looks of panic and fear on their faces.
Needless to say when your torso is about 12 inches long and your mom keeps feeding you despite the fact that you have not released anything in 48 hours, crap is backed-up. The offending material almost reached his hair, which he does not have much of.
When I finally got it all cleaned up and put Pooper in the car seat to venture home, he yawned real big, smiled and passed out. No shit -ha!
This brings me to my next point. I can cuss something awful. I am good at it. I can throw 4 letter words into my conversation like nobody's f-ing business b-tches. F that S.
However, I am realizing that very soon Parker will be able to understand and mimic everything I say. Getting reigned in from your workout because your son took a major poo is one thing, but getting called out because your 2 year old cussed out the Daycare lady is another story. Especially if he does it correctly, meaning the cusses make sense- calling someone a sh*thead is very different from calling them a sh*tfoot or something, catch my drift?
I don't Parker to be the asshat in daycare. Damn, I shouldn't have said asshat...shi...da..I just can't seem to stop!
So I have started using phrases like:
Mother of Pearl
God Bless America
and my personal favorite- Sweet Corn
Sweet corn can be used in situations like- "Sweet corn, where did I leave my car keys?!" or "Sweet corn I stubbed my toe." or just yell "Sweet corn!" in place of any other cuss you may want to yell. If nothing else you will laugh, how can you not? It's sweet corn!
Finally, some people ask me how Josh is doing with "this." They say this.
I'm not sure if "this" is Parker, fatherhood in general or the crazy momwife I have become. Either way, Josh is doing great. So far I have come to realize parenthood is best played as a team sport. When one of us is slacking, stressed or has a heel injury, the other steps in with the tape and some ice and takes over.