Poop Patrol

As the mother of four, I pretty much feel like I've seen it all.  My kids are weird.  I accept that.  Even adore it.

The Oldest has done everything from super gluing his mouth shut to getting a cellulitis in his foot from a TOOTHPICK to creating a character named "Count Buttula" for his numerous bandage changes from his surgery (complete with accent).  The Middle Son has de-pants-ed (sp?) The Oldest in the middle of Dollar General, in front of about 30 other shoppers, and hacked Disney's website, by age 10.  Mini-Me has painted hardwood floors bright red and worn 3 shirts at once because she couldn't decide on what to wear.

And then there's The Youngest Boy.  He's the most creative when it comes to mischief.  And when he does something - he REALLY does it.  Slid on a book once resulting in 10 stitches and a broken jaw.  Learned beatboxing when he was 3.  Tripped over his Woody Talk doll and managed to force his tooth through his cheek.  For the most part, I don't really get rattled anymore when there's a scream, crash, or phone call from the school.  So, of course, there had to be something to throw me off of my 17 year Mom game, and The Youngest Boy was the one to do it.  

Yesterday, he came home from school with prizes from phys ed class.  He'd ran more laps around the track or something.  He got these 2, small, 1/4 inch thick, 1/2 inch tall, plastic charms.  One was a blue school house (which I joked was the Tardis) and the other was a fluorescent yellow apple.  He was very proud.  He placed them on the coffee table, next to his milk.  (can you see where this is going?  BECAUSE I DIDN'T)  The phone rings, it's my sister, we start our usual conversations.  A few minutes later, he starts lightly panicking.  I divert my attention from the call to the child with the freaked out look on his face.  This is when he informs me that he accidentally swallowed the apple charm.

By accident.

He was reaching for his drink, when he mistakenly picked up the charm from the table, and ACCIDENTALLY SWALLOWED IT.

Yes.

That's what he tells me.

Seriously.

Um.

W.  T.  F.

While the majority of me is confused, the other part of me is worried.  You see, my kids haven't ever swallowed foreign objects before today.  None of them.  Boogers, cat food, latex paint, super glue, a Skittle from the Orchestra room floor- yes, toys- no.   So, I'm not really sure how to proceed here.  My sister is a medical assistant, so I ask her if this warrants an E.R. visit.  I mean, it's been a few months since our last trip.  It'd be nice to know if they have any new flavors in the slushy machine.  She wasn't sure.  I decided I'd just call the pediatrician.  He's not choking or anything.  Just a little weirded out.

The pediatrician is on my "Favorite" list on my iPhone, for obvious reasons.  I already know to press 5 for the nurse.  And I'm on hold for a few minutes.  About 5 minutes later I'm explaining this story to a sweet, young nurse.  She decides to consult one of the doctors due to the size of the toy.  Several minutes later, she's explaining what to do from here.  Something about 2 weeks, watch his bowel movements, keep an eye on stomach pains, yadda yadda yadda....

Then it happens.

He starts coughing.  His face reddens.  His eyes are bulging.  He's grabbing his throat.  He's garbling "It's.................. coming................... back .............. up....."  The nurse on the other end starts to flip.  I was preparing for CPR.  She frantically asks me if I need for her to call 9-1-1.  I'm trying to keep a cool head in case I need to save his life - or catch as the toy projectiles from his face.  And then....

Then....

THEN HE PROCEEDS TO LAUGH.  He was kidding about the choking. 

Give the kid an Oscar.

Of course I got off of the phone prior to beating him but those were a close few seconds.

I've been sentenced to 2 weeks of Doody Inspection.  I'm going to make a badge to wear for it.  Then keep it in a box with the Mowing Tiara and my Mother of the Year awards.

Motherhood - Only The Strong Survive

I wrote this quite a while ago..........


(Here I go again.  For the 4th time)
Here are a few things I want to say about Motherhood.


1.  I do not want to be urinated, defecated, snotted, vomitted, spit or farted on.  It's a thing I have about not wanting DISGUSTING touching me.  So why can't they all aim the other way?


2.  Sleep.  Sleep is meant to be done in consecutive hours and until you are rested.  I would like to engage in this activity.  I sleep in 1.5 hour increments.  Sleep is imperative to my functionability, ability to get through the day, and overall mood and demeanor.  Want me to be nicer?  Let me sleep.  For at least 5 hours.  Please?  Also, pee or vomit in your own bed.  Why?  Because it is easier to change your sheets.  Toddler bed/crib mattress vs. Queen sized bed with memory foam mattress pad at 3 am?  I'll pick the little ones please.


3.  I don't want to use the toilet to an audience.  When I pee - picture it - I have to pee, wipe while keeping the tp away from the baby then stand up, flush and pull my pants up all simultaneously then quickly land a foot on top of the toilet to keep baby hands out of the pot.  Also, wait to ask me life's important questions until I am out of the bathroom.  Don't sit outside of the door asking the following:  What am I doing, when am I going to be done, can I change the channel, can you watch a movie, can you have a snack, where the remote is, where your shoes are, or tell me that you have to pee.  We have 2 bathrooms - utilize that!


4.  Food.  Your food belongs in your mouth.  Where food does NOT belong:  In your brothers hair, on the floor, in the carpet, in the bathroom, in the basket of clean laundry, in the printer, on the computer, on the tv, behind or underneath the furniture, in or on the couch cushions, in your bedroom, on the stairs or in the hallway.  Here are a list of things that are not food products for your eating pleasure:  Change, band aids, baby wipes, pens, pencils, markers, my contact case, my glasses, eye drops, anything in my make-up bag, toilet paper, anything that you have in your toy box and cat food. 


5.  I am not a mind read, code talker, translator or Steven Hawking.  I cannot understand what you are saying mid squelch.  Take 5 then tell me what atrocity your brother committed.  Breathe before you try to explain what toy you just stepped on that I have asked you to pick up 100 times already.  Calm down.  I'd have better luck deciphering Lassie's bark then what a child is saying while screaming.


6.  List of things that your brother is not:  Invisible, invincible, immortal, a battering ram, a trampoline, a gun to shoot any substance or object, a slinky, a gymnast, Superman, Freddy Kreuger, balance beam, home gym, remote control, robot, animals of any sort, target practice, punching bag or object of revenge. 


7.  I am not really Wonder Woman. Seriously, I have only one head, heart and brain.  Freakishly I was born deformed for motherhood.  I came with only 2 arms, 2 legs, 2 ears and 1 body.  I have to make due with what God gave me.  Unlike Ben's mom I can't be in two places at once, part the Red Sea or pull baked goods from any of my orafices.  You'll have to survive on what I am.  Sorry. 


8.  Showering is my 10 minutes alone.  Keep it that way.  Crying outside of the bathroom door is annoying.  Stop it.  Don't bother me unless the house is on fire.  At least I will have the water to douse the fire with.  Go annoy your father.  he doesn't get a fraction of it that I do.  Go punish him for a few minutes.


9.  The television gets more than Disney, Noggin, Cartoon Network and the Sci Fi Channel.  It will not explode if your mother takes control of the remote.


10.  Most of all, I love my kids more than anything in the world.  I wouldn't trade them for anything.  Even when they go on haircut strikes, wear clothes that not only don't match but don't even fit, tell me that I can't dance or sing and to be normal in front of their friends, explain to teachers that they are going to need years of therapy after being raised by us, pull my hair, tell me they hate me and commit the above offenses repeatedly and without remorse.  They are still my babies and I wouldn't have it any other way.