boys will be boys »

When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go

Posted by Domestic Diva at 1:38 pm Uncategorized

Apr 292011

A few years ago, when Joey was potty training, the child would not use a public toilet…ever. He wouldn’t pee or poop at school, while out shopping, traveling, and once on the way to the beach he cried for forty minutes because he had to go so bad and was holding it until we reached my parents. We tried stopping at a fast food restaurant, told him to pee in the grass (which he still refuses to do), so I made a purchase of a travel potty, pictured above, in case of an emergency.

Last summer, miraculously, Joey began using public toilets. In fact, now Joey likes to check out every public toilet we encounter. He especially loves the ones that make me really cringe like at the doctor’s office, ball park or any frequently used but rarely cleaned facility. It’s not just that I’m freaked out by germs, but Joey now likes to get “intimate” with the seat. Anyway, the travel potty sat in the back of our SUV unchristened until a couple days ago.

Now, I know those of you who have read my story of one of my last trips to Pittsburgh where I was stuck in traffic, had not peed in seven hours and was forced to pee in a size 6 Huggies Diaper in the center lanes of downtown Pittsburgh during rush hour/holiday traffic might think I was the one who used the travel potty for the first time…but it wasn’t me.

So late Wednesday morning, on our last day in Pittsburgh, we accompanied my mother-in-law and sister-in-law up to the cemetery to plant some flowers on my father-in-law’s graveside. Joey had been there only once and my other two children had never been in a cemetery. On our short drive there I told them they needed to be respectful and although it was a beautiful day, there was to be no running around.

After the initial round of questioning, most of which I didn’t answer (about bones, being dead, ghosts and worms), we arrived and the kids immediately did not listen to a word I had said. Although their general level of noise could wake the dead, we managed to keep things to a dull roar, and after some slight reminding, they stopped walking between headstones and asking if they could climb and sit on them too. Only about ten minutes had past before Jake announced his need to poop. My husband told him he could go in the woods, Jake was decidedly against this because he “is not a bear.” My husband then took Jake to the rear of the car where he proceeded to christen the travel potty in the middle of a cemetery.

So much for being respectful in a cemetery. I’m pretty sure taking a crap is worse than running around, stepping on graves or sitting on headstones. What can you do though? He’s three and when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go…

Green with envy

Posted by Domestic Diva at 2:51 pm Uncategorized

Mar 302011

When you become someone’s mother your entire world changes. You feel things you never thought possible and you do things you never dreamed that you would do before…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Have I ever told you that green is one of my favorite colors? Well, it’s one of them. My two favorites being red and green even though I have an borderline obsession with wearing black and white. Anyway, green is everywhere this time of year.

It’s in the grass….

It’s in the trees…

In the animals who slowly awake from their winter’s slumber…

So when Joey called me to come “look at the green,” my mind was focused on the color of the season. Did he draw a Spring Landscape? Was he admiring the greening grass? Perhaps our tree buds had burst open into leaves?

As I skipped, with a “spring” in my step, and rounded the corner, all hopes of a desirable Spring scene were shattered as I saw Joey, not peering out the window or coloring in his room, but standing bare-assed in the bathroom grinning at the toilet. I sighed a terrible sigh and swiftly made my way towards the boy.

“Are you sick, Joey? Do you feel okay? Do you have diarrhea?” I quickly question.

“No, Mom. I’m totally fine. It’s just a regular poop, buuuuuut look, Mom! Look how green it is! It looks like a group of green snakes sleeping in the toilet.” Joey giggled.

Almost afraid to look, I peered cautiously over the bowl and saw the greenest bunch of turds ever. Think neon green…

Actual green snakes

You didn’t think I’d post poop pictures did you? Come on! Give me a little credit!

Anyway, this is when I share one of those motherhood lessons I’ve learned that not too many people know. When I saw Joey’s otherwise normal turds,(and here’s where you do things as a Mom you never dreamed of doing) and saw the bright green neon color I didn’t panic. In fact, I told Joey to wipe, flush and wash his hands. The I went down stairs and finished some emails. Did I do that because I’m a bad Mom? Because I don’t care about my child’s health?

The simple answer is I’ve seen it before…panicked once before….called the doctor once before….and knew we had the same situation as before. You see, Joey had recently celebrated a friend’s birthday. In honor of the celebration they ate cake. Delicious chocolate and vanilla cake with blue icing (at least the Batman part of the cake). So Joey joyfully celebrated, ate and digested the birthday cake with blue icing. The blue icing, once it goes through the digestive system, actually comes out green. Really, really green.

So, Mamas, if your child ever poops a neon green poop that glows ominously at you from the toilet, and as your heart thumps anxiously and your mind races through different ailments to reach a diagnosis, try to think of any blue or purple food coloring/dye they may have consumed. It just might save you a panic attack, and don’t worry, they most like are not radioactive.

You’re welcome.

(And because some people actually need me to write this: This post and my opinion about your child’s crap is not a substitute for real medical advice. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a licensed physician. Sometimes poopy problems can be attributed to viruses, digestive conditions, allergies and more things I am not qualified to talk to you about. If you child has a poop which concerns you, please contact your pediatrician to discuss your shitty situation.)

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Lucky Me

Posted by Domestic Diva at 11:02 am Uncategorized

Mar 102011

I’m excited-like jump up and down, do a little victory dance kind of excited. I tried on a pair of pants this morning and they fit. They were even a little loose. These aren’t just any pants. These are my Lucky jeans. “Lucky” as in the brand of the pants; the pants themselves hold no special powers that bring good fortune (that I’m aware of anyway). These pants were way too expensive and very short lived as I became pregnant for the 3rd time just after purchasing them. Then, sometime last year, I was able to squeeze into them and I discovered I had been suffering from Reverse Body Dysmorphic Disorder. God knows how long I rocked a muffin top or camel toe without realizing it. Who knows how long I had living in ignorant bliss. Here, I thought just because I could manage to get into a smaller sized pair of pants, I should be wearing them (and sadly thought I looked good doing it).

So this morning, after realizing I was free of muffin top, in my favorite jeans, I thought of this post (just FYI: I am not yet “thin” just thin enough for this one pair of fabulously expensive jeans):

“Lucky” brand jeans my ass. Lucky was the last thing I felt as I tried, desperately, to squeeze my rolly-polly rear into those pants. I did it though. I even got them buttoned. I hopped around my bedroom, doing squats in hopes of loosening the denim, finally collapsing on the bed, sucking in all the breath I could, and then it happened. The zipper gave it’s last bit of resistance as it reach the top. My thumb throbbed as it did as I commanded and thrust the button through the hole. I was there. Finally. I laid there on my bed, breathless and sweating, in sweet disbelief. I am wearing my smallest sized pair of jeans. My “I paid way too much for these” Lucky Brand pair of jeans. I rose from the bed without bending, yet still victorious. I stiffly waddled over to the mirror. For a brief moment I saw myself as the woman who bought those jeans fifteen months ago. The woman who only had two kids, not three; the woman who was running a 5k and eating healthy every meal. As I turned to see my “rear view” I went to tuck in my shirt…and my skin. Oh the horror! I had the worst case of muffin top I have ever seen. I cried out and tried to crumple into the fetal position but fell stiffly forward into the mirror.

It was there, on the floor, stiff and without sensation below the waist, that it hit me. I am suffering from the worst kind of fashion disorder. When I look into the mirror I see a skinnier version of myself. It’s the opposite of what those suffering from anorexia and bulimia see. Technically termed, body dysmorphic disorder causes suffers to view themselves in an altered state. These people see themselves as fat even when they are wasting away. I, on the other hand, see myself as thinner than I am. The absolute joy of zippering and/or buttoning a smaller sized article of clothing blinds me. The rush of getting into smaller sized clothing, even when it does not fit properly, causes me to think I look much thinner than I actually am.

Now that I have diagnosed myself as a sufferer of reverse body dysmorphic disorder, I have been living in constant fear. Every time I change clothes I spend triple the time in front of the mirror studying the image before me. Is it real??? So if you see me (and my muffin top) out and about, please don’t judge too harshly. I’m sick…really, really sick.

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It’s only appropriate cause I’m a Mom

Posted by Domestic Diva at 3:55 pm Uncategorized

Feb 102011

I have a few things I’d love to post, but my brain is not functioning properly due to sleep deprivation. Hopefully I’ll be able to share some of them soon. Right now I’ve got 2.5 sick kids and I’m still fighting a funk myself, so I’ll do a quick list of things that are only okay to say and do since I’m a Mom. Just some basic observations if you will. In other situations, if you saw or heard someone saying/doing these things, without small children, it might be a bit socially awkward (to say the least):

1. Saying, “Please get your finger out of his/her nose!”

2. Saying, “Please get your finger out of my nose!”

3. Catching someone’s vomit in your hands.

4. Sniffing someone’s ass to see if they pooped

5. Trying to explain to a person that burping and farting loudly in public isn’t okay just because you say “excuse me” afterward

6. Instructing someone to “Call me when you’re done pooping, so I can help you wipe.”

7. Advising someone “stop walking around holding your crotch and just go to the bathroom already!”

8. Questioning “What are you eating now?” and then instructing “spit it in my hand now!” then sticking your fingers in someone’s mouth to remove said foreign object.

9. Asking someone if they feel okay and what “kind” of poop they just had.

10. Having to repeat any basic question 58 times in order to get a response.

Reading over this there’s a lot of poop. Even though I think it comes with the territory, I’ll generally apologize. I think it’s cause my week has literally been shitty too. I’m still bitter about picking up that “raisin.” Either way, you can’t get away with saying or doing this list with adults….well, most adults.

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What’s up now, big brother?

Posted by Domestic Diva at 12:32 pm Uncategorized

Feb 032011

Just like most of the country, we had some awful weather lately with Tuesday as an “ice” day and no school. Also, just like seemingly everyone else, we’re all sick too with some sort of respiratory funk. Although it’s snotty and miserable around here, I feel fortunate there have been no fevers/ear infections/rashes/puking/pneumonia as we’ve had in recent months. Does it make the kids any less miserable? Nope.

It’s not their fault either, as much as they’ve been couped up, and now sick to boot, there’s been a bit more bickering between siblings..at least the boys. Joey, who is five and a half, is big for his age. Jake, age three and a half, is an average size for his age. Joey weighs a full 25lbs more than Jake and is a good foot taller (at least). Jake, though smaller, has learned quickly he cannot overtake his brother by force. This means Jake needs to be a bit more calculating in his attacks.

For example, Joey gets mad and might push Jake or hold him on the ground. Jake gets mad at Joey and he colors with crayon all over Joey’s wall. Joey then freaks out and Jake,although is then punished, gloats and obviously feels triumphant with his mental warfare. Jake is a clever little guy, and you can see him thinking things through and calculating his next move. In fact, even when the boys pull a stunt together, I often wonder who the mastermind is…

Yesterday, although he hasn’t had a fever, I kept Joey home from school because of a persistent cough. I pumped him full of fluids, vitamins and soothing foods and he still coughed, but also ran around all day playing. He obviously sounded much worse than he was actually feeling. Jake,who caught the funk from Joey over the weekend, was feeling sick and stayed home too. Between being stuck indoors and feeling sick, they were going at it all day. I stopped counting how many times I heard, “Mooooooooom! <insert Joey or Jake’s name here> is bugging me!” or “Tell him to leave me alone” or “Tell him to stop <looking, breathing, sitting> <in,on,near> me!!!”

This morning I heard Joey coughing and shut my alarm off. Truth be told, I feel awful too and wanted to call in sick myself. If I knew how to pull that off, I’d be in bed right now. Anyway, I called Joey out sick and after an hour of coughing he stopped. What didn’t stop was the running around and fighting with Jake. So after three hours of Joey not coughing and acting normal I took him to school for a half day. His classroom, when I dropped him off, sounded like synchronized coughing, so in retrospect, I probably should have taken him yesterday.

Apparently, while I was gone, Jake began plotting revenge for Joey’s particularly unrelenting tattling and brutishness the last few days. After I was home only twenty minutes or so from dropping Joey off my husband asked me to come and look at what Jake had done in the basement. That is rarely a good thing.

So here’s a quick back story on the photo below. Joey is obsessed with the Wii. You saw the post where he ran and ran on the fitness running game, and he’s created over 100 Mii’s (the avatars for the Wii games). I’ve had to limit the amount of time he spends playing Wii otherwise I am certain he’d do it morning, noon and night. So Jake went in and hit him where it hurts…he took Joey’s favorite Mii and altered him. What’s disturbing is Jake made Joey’s Wii look like Hitler….or at least I think so.

What now, big brother???

I guess that’s what Joey gets for being such an azul to his brother this morning.

I thought it was funny, but did make him change it back…what do you think? Leave me a comment!

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10 Things that get me through the day

Posted by Domestic Diva at 9:29 pm Uncategorized

Jan 182011

Did you ever lose something that you perhaps didn’t realize you relied so heavily upon? Ever run out of a staple product? I did and it nearly ruined my life morning…got me thinking about the things I need to get through another day in paradise :

Coffee. It’s not a want it’s a need, and without it I’m guaranteed to not be my typical sunshiny-self. I go without my morning brew and it’s gonna be a bad day- for all of us.
Hair products. After decades of trying to combat my giant afro head, I’ve found the right recipe for an un-fluffy head given the right atmospheric conditions. After washing, I scrunch in Samy Moose (for curls), some Bed Head Foxy Curls gel, and dry with a diffuser. I finish off the affliction style with Aussie Scrunch Spray. If I deviate from this daily blend of products mayhem ensues. I walk around the rest of the day looking like I was electrocuted, like I’m a mental patient, or am forced to wear a hat…a very large hat.
Nature Valley Bars. I discovered these delicious on-the-go bars a couple years ago and I’m totally hooked! No time for breakfast? No problem. No time for lunch? No problem. Need a low calorie snack that will fill you up? No problem! I.love.Nature.Valley.Bars. I keep some in my car, purse, diaper bag, pantry, and I buy them in bulk at Sam’s Club. They offer a multitude of flavors by my #1 is Oat & Honey followed by Fruit & Nut. They’re healthy enough to eat everyday, satisfying to grab and eat on the go, and have kept me from starvation brought on by my ridiculous schedule at times. Pretty sure if I had to pick one food to eat the rest of my life this would be it…or nachos.
Ipod. I didn’t realize how much I needed this little device, but apparently my musical selections work as a mood stabilizer. Without them I’m lost in a sea of mindless child chatter, the constant stream of requests (juice to movies to snacks and everything in between), the kid’s show’s theme songs playing throughout the day and melting my brain one stupid refrain at a time, and the not so distant sounds of my husband’s conference calls (all.day.long). Without my own selection of background noise, and my wide varieties of genres of music, I get a little….bitchy.
Nick Jr. & PBS Kids. I know I just complained about the kid’s show’s music, but if my kids didn’t have their favorite shows to entertain them at various times throughout the day or when the weather is bad, they’re sick, or I just want them to sit still for more than 3 minutes at a time, I fear my house would look like a scene from Lord of the Flies. Plus parking them in front of the TV is much more socially acceptable that strapping them to a chair.
Facebook. What can I say? I’m addicted. I don’t know what it is about “the Facebook,” other than it’s my drug social network of choice, but I love it. It’s like a lifeline to other Moms who have become trapped chosen this often thankless life of domestic servitude bliss. It also gives the feeling that you’re staying connected with friends and family without very much effort. Let me just drop a couple “likes” here and there, and aren’t I a fabulous friend? Oh, and there’s the fact that I may be a bit narcissistic and think people actually care what I’m doing (every damn minute of the day).
Pepsi. The 10-20 ounces of coffee I drink for at breakfast won’t last all damn day. Four One or two Pepsi’s see me through from lunch until bedtime.
WTF? This picture is hilarious. I couldn't NOT put it on my website.
Clorox Wipes. This isn’t just because I’m a germaphobic. It’s cause my kids are gross. You should see what my kitchen table/highchairs/booster seats look like three times a day. It’s gross. Even worse is the bathroom. My boys miss the toilet more often than not (I don’t even want to know why), there are the occasional little brown splotches (Mr. Hanky?)on the seat and/or lid, and I have to scrub the day’s meals off the handle of the door (after meals, and usually covered in food, they are instructed to go hose off in the bathroom sink). I never dreamed I would clean as much crusted peanut butter & jelly and spaghetti sauce from my bathroom door knob and bathroom sink. It’s gross. There’s no need to even mention why I need Clorox after preparing and cooking raw meats or when there is an illness in the house. If I had to choose only one cleaning product, this would be it.
Afternoon Nap Time. Every day from around 1pm-3:30pm I lay down and take an afternoon nap. Yeah, right. Talk about a fantasy. That’s actually the time of day my daughter naps- she’s the only one of the three who still takes one. I utilize the time to clean up the morning’s destruction, do my regular cleaning and laundry without having to get up every 14 seconds, answer emails, make phone calls, and God willing eat lunch. I know my nap days are numbered, and I’m trying to not even think about all three kids awake all day.
Wine. Before you get your panties in a bunch, I don’t drink every day (I wish I had that kind of time). Maybe that’s why I enjoy wine as much as I do when I actually find the time to sit down and quietly enjoy a glass (or three). I drink white/pino grigio for anyone who’s buying.

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The Joys of the Season

Posted by Domestic Diva at 12:45 pm Uncategorized

Dec 162010

There’s plenty to stress about this time of year, and for me taking my kids pictures in Christmas outfits for my annual holiday cards is not one of them. Every year I just take their pictures and put the best or the worst on my annual cards. It saves me the public embarrassment of miserable crying kids in the portrait studios, the absurd amount of money for bad pictures, the hours it takes to get ready/wait in line/and choose the expensive bad pictures, plus every time we go get our pictures taken the kids are sick three days later (croup, strep or something extra funky).

My kids are usually such a happy bunch, but there is one thing that seems to really piss them off. Holiday portraits. So this year, I hope you get nice pictures of your kids, and if you don’t, I hope you don’t stress. You can at least have something to make you kids feel bad when their older. May you all be filled with the joys of the season, cause we always are; here are some of the pictures that have graced our holiday cards in year’s past:

Joey and Jake Christmas 2007. Joey loves holding his baby brother.

You'll see this pose throughout the years. There must be something in the clothing that causes a lack of muscle control. Even Joey's Curious George dressed in Jake's sweater couldn't help him sit up.

Maybe if they sat separate and without the sweaters? Or not.

Maybe I can make my brother cry too. Merry Christmas 2007!

Christmas 2008. Let's try in front of the fireplace. Jake screamed without the binky & kicked off his shoes.

My favorite one of all.

At least Joey is happy this year...although he still hasn't fully regained muscle control.

Better luck next year....Christmas 2008

Okay, people! I'm done!

Well, at least no one is crying. Christmas 2009

*Sigh*

Nice try.

Jake getting his eyes poked again. No wonder he's squinting.

At least he's smiling....

This was the best of 2009

Here we go again 2010

Perfect Joey, hold that pose. At least it's what he normally looks like...

Jake is auditioning for the JcPenny catalog 2010

Here's the 17 month old lack of motor control. It's struck every kid at the same age. perhaps I should call the doctor

Looks familiar.

The best of this year....better luck in 2011, Mom.

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State your purpose, son

Posted by Domestic Diva at 8:05 pm Uncategorized

Nov 152010

Parents often document their child’s first year in a baby book/calendar and some even record the child’s milestones through early adolescence. Each of my own children has a “First Five Years” book that catalogs all the milestones that happen from birth through Kindergarten. The beginning of each book is full of spaces and pages for the multitude of developmental hurdles that babies experience in the first twelve months or so of life like rolling over, crawling, walking, and first words. Years two through five contain a few less pages, however, there is one page that appears for each year that has a survey for the parent to complete detailing the child’s “favorites” for that particular year. Here is what I plan on filling in for Joey (age 5) this year:

Favorite Food: Pizza, chicken (only in nugget form), & pancakes
Favorite Book: Classic Curious George Stories, Where the Wild Things Are, First Encyclopedias (Sharks & Dinosaurs)
Favorite TV Show: Tom & Jerry, Curious George, Dino Dan, and any National Geographic Nature shows
Favorite Movie: Where the Wild Things Are, Up, Wall-E
Favorite Toy: Leapster
Favorite Game: Anything outdoors, Toy Story on Wii
Hobbies: Becoming an “Explorer; Using public toilets, and Embarrassing my Mom whenever she takes me out in public

Case in point, today, as with many days before, taking Joey out into the world proves to be an embarrassing task that leaves me with a certainty this child lives to humiliate me whenever possible.

Jake and I picked up Joey from school this morning for a quick trip to the doctor’s office for flu shots, and upon arrival, we saw another boy from Joey’s class with his brother and Mom also waiting for their flu shots. As I tried to calm Joey, who was now super excited to see a friend, I also tried to check in with Jake clinging to my leg. Jake, who was very upset to be at the doctor’s office for any reason, whimpered a bit and I hurried through the ridiculously long check-in process showing my photo id, insurance card, co-pays, w-2′s, copy of my and their birth certificates, and a copy of my deed for my house. Okay, it’s not quite that ridiculous, but it’s much longer than necessary (thanks HIPA). Anyway, Joeys’ friend asked Jake if he liked the Phillies since he was sporting a hat and jacket with their logo. Joey chimed in that they love the Phillies and the Wilmington Blue Rocks (Delaware’s minor league baseball team). I added that the boys got to a few Blue Rock’s games, but we never made it up to Philadelphia for a Phillies game this year. Joey then exclaims, “I loooooved the Blue Rocks games! I saw the baseball team and ate ice cream and I went to the bathroom at least two times at the last game. One time I peed in the bathroom and the other time I went back and I peed again but I got poop in there too.”

This other mother was laughing quietly while the receptionist was hysterical. I then explained that a year ago Joey would not use any public restroom and now everywhere we go that there is a bathroom, he needs to go and at least pee. Public bathrooms are a big deal now for some reason. I also added that I can no longer take him in public without this kind of random embarrassing banter. This kid’s sole purpose in life seems to be to embarrass me…or at the very least it’s a hobby of his. I suppose that Joey talking about his own pooping escapades is better than him talking about stranger’s weight, handicaps, or skin color.

That’s okay though. I’m saving all the embarrassing photos and videos in a special file just waiting for the first time he brings a girl home. Payback is a bitch…or at least it will be!

Joey, age 5, enjoys playing outside, eating cookies, reading and pooping in public toilets

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The Great Flood of 2010

Posted by Domestic Diva at 2:07 pm Uncategorized

Nov 072010

Sunday morning started earlier than normal because my children missed the memo about the time change. Instead of getting up at 7am, we were up and out of bed by 6am. Unfortunately, this did not help me accomplish anything more than normal, and really, by about 10am I was already feeling defeated by the day. My husband was stuck working and I was stuck trying to clean and entertain the kids. The baby, who now has the same funky respiratory infection the boys had last week, was particularly cranky.

After feeding the kids lunch, and trying to grill in a wind storm, I finally gave up and brought my steaks inside. I decided broiling was the quickest option since I had not had breakfast and was now ready to pass out. In order to enjoy my meal I decided to put the baby down for her nap, but she wasn’t going peacefully. I gentle rocked and hummed her to sleep when the smoke detector began to wail (and so did she). My bacon wrapped fillet was nearly starting a grease fire as it cooked and grease splattered everywhere. By the time I got the smoke to clear, the baby settled, and I was finally ready to eat, I was also ready to cry. After a typical quick lunch characterized by eating over my sink, I retreated to the basement to fold some laundry.

I listen to the poor baby snoring away over the monitor, but smiled as I watched Jake build castles on the floor in front of me with blocks. Joey was also being good, watching a movie quietly up stairs. Perhaps my afternoon would make up for the hectic and tiring morning. As I continued to fold the clothes, I wasn’t even aware how the dripping sound was nearly lulling me to sleep. Drip, drop, drip, drop. I thought how tired I was, and how with the latest “bug” the kids had not had slept through the night in well over a week and half. Drip, drop, drip, drop….I began to yawned loud and long, but abruptly forced myself to stop. The weather forecast called for high winds today but no rain. What was that noise then that I heard?

I immediately ran into the laundry room, but saw no evidence of water. As I circled back around, I saw a shadow of sorts on the ceiling. I flicked on the light at the bottom of the stairs, walked closer to examine the puddle forming on the ceiling, and my tired brain worked hard to think of what was right above this spot upstairs. A large drop of water formed and fell suddenly hitting my forehead and ran down right into my eye. It was in that moment that my synapses began firing again and a virtual map of my home was displayed in my mind. I felt my eye began to twitch and for a fleeting moment I almost lost it….it’s the powder room that sits above the spot with the dripping water. For a split second, I hoped perhaps Joey had left the sink running, but as I ascended the stairs and the invisible ecoli germs multiplied in my eyeball, I knew it was the toilet. I didn’t have the kind of luck for a sink flood. My luck calls for a shitty, messy toilet flood…and as the bathroom door slowly creaked open and the mess was uncovered, that was exactly what I found.

My eye twitched again, uncontrollably and I turned and walked into the family room where Joey was. My oldest child, who is five years old, rarely requires assistance in the bathroom. Evidently, although he found himself in a messy situation, he thought he’s just keep wiping…and wiping….and wiping. In fact, my independent son found himself wiping through a whole roll of toilet paper. Unfortunately, the 482 plies of paper and poo did not flush as Joey had hoped. Instead it “came up and up and up” until it finally “bubbled out of the toilet and ran all over the floor.” As my son sat, feet up in the air, casually drinking a juice box and recanting his close call, he assured me I need not worry, for his feet didn’t get wet. Thankfully, I have a spry child who jumped up on the step stool and reached for the door and jumped “all the way over the puddle.” The eye twitched again on its own, and my face must have spoken volumes; although I actually just stood their silently. Joey sat up, put his juice box down, and asked “should I go to my room?”

As I reached my arm into the toilet, far past the rubber glove’s coverage, I died a little inside. Toilet paper and turds swirled around my arm, and finally, after some reaching, grabbing and gagging, a huge wad of toilet paper was pulled free and a huge swirl of water rushed down the now open drain. After switching gloves, scrubbing the toilet and floor with bleach water, soaking the poo water from the rug (up and downstairs), cleaning the rug,with soap and getting fans to dry the flooded area, I am now sitting recanting this tale to you with a tall glass of wine. I clocked out for the day, and have made the executive decision to order out dinner, cancel the remaining cleaning, and just recenter myself before Monday comes calling. Otherwise, I might just quit!

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Super Missiles

Posted by Domestic Diva at 11:16 am Uncategorized

Oct 182010

I watch way too much Dateline, 20/20 and 48 Hours Mysteries. I also read the paper and watch the news daily which aides in my paranoia. I trust very few people outside my family to watch and care for my kids. I receive email notifications from the State of Delaware when a sex offender moves into my zip code.

When my kids ask to go play outside, alone, at age three and five, they get really upset when I say “no” if I am unable to come out with them. They find this especially unfair since “all the other kids are doing it.” Nice. That old line. Some of the best times I had as a kid were riding around my neighborhood on a bike and playing in the woods that backed up to my neighborhood. Times were different then.

My kids had already been outside twice on Sunday, but Mother Nature and her beautiful weather sang her siren’s song beckoning them to come back outside again. They had actually been very well behaved for most of the day, and cleverly used that as leverage in their plight to play outside alone. I was wrapping up some emails and told them that they were allowed to play in the front yard until I was able to come outside as well. My desk is right next to one of the front windows so I felt that was a safe compromise. With the window open, and the boys outside, I could finish what I was doing without the constant barrage of questions as to when I’d be finished.

“I have to poop first,” Jake announced loudly. “Fine, fine, Jake. Just go do your business and head outside with your brother.” I told him and I headed back to my work.

I saw Joey kicking a ball around and heard Jake flush the toilet, run the water in the sink, and then head outside loudly calling his brother as he ran out the door. The boys were just out of sight on the front steps, but with the window open and them playing nicely just 10 feet away, I regained my focus on what I was doing.

Out of the corner of my eye, about ten minutes later, I saw the boys running around on the front lawn. “We’re under attacked!” Joey screamed, and without looking away from my computer I called out to him to keep it to a dull roar outside. Jake giggle in delight and cried out “Oh, no! I’m under attack too!” Joey quickly replied, “You’re going to get it now, Jacob! It’s raining missiles!”

Now, my boys have active imaginations. We own no toy missiles, so what could they be using as missiles? Sticks? Stones? Something from the garage? Who knew. Whatever it was, it called for further investigation on my part, so that one of them didn’t end up with a dart in the forehead or something.

You may remember the set up in my foyer from the recent incident where Jake told the UPS man I was pooping. As I entered the foyer, saw that the powder room door was open and so was the cabinet under my sink. Jake must have gone looking for a hand towel which I keep under the sink, I supposed. However, as I turned and faced the front door, I saw what he actually discovered under the sink.

The front steps and surrounding plants around my front door were littered with tampon wrappers. My front walk and 1/3 of my front lawn were bombed with a multipack of tampons. Super, regular and lite day tampons, I mean “missiles,” were everywhere. The battle, which was still in progress, left me momentarily speechless. Life slowed down for a moment as I turned and looked around. Neighbors were outside, mowing lawns, working in the yard, laughing at my kids. Two women, each with a stroller, giggled as the walked by sneaking extra glances of the boys. Have I ever mentioned most of my close friends live 35-40miles away and I’m hoping to make some more new friends down where I live now? Well, I am. Safe to say those two ladies, each with kids about Cecilia’s age, will probably not be among them.

Life sped back to normal speed as I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to nonchalantly clean up the Costco sized box of tampons from my front yard. The boys were now rather irritated I was taking away such a neat box of toys they had never seen before. I tried to quietly shush them as I cleaned up the lawn, chasing loose wrappers to the curb and back. My face felt so hot and I cannot imagine it could have been much redder. Jake hit Joey in the arm with a super tampon and Joey pretended it was shot off. “Mom! Mom! Jake bombed my arm!” I just prayed silently for the great green suburban earth beneath my feet to open up and swallow me whole. No such luck.

A man walking a dog, actually stepped over a wrapper, and right through my nightmare. He smiled and I pretended not to see him…or the other half dozen neighbors who were outside. It then occurred to me in addition to fearing for my children’s safety the other reason I don’t want them outside alone is because of their propensity to embarrass me. Perhaps I should have thought of that first and they could have waited the ten minutes for me to finish what I was doing before we all went and enjoyed the beautiful fall afternoon together.

Through the eyes of a 5 and 3 year old boy, this is what a tampon looks like...

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