Midwestern Mommy

Actual conversation between Seth and me today while coming home from the grocery store.

Seth: “Mommy. My butt hurts.”
Me: “Sorry to hear that sweets but I can’t do much about that right now.”
Seth: (Whining) “Mmooooooommmmyyy. My butt hurts. Kiss my butt.”
(Because of course if you kiss other things like fingers, hands or knees, and that works, why wouldn’t it work with one’s rump?)
Me: “Seth. I’m driving. I can’t just pull over and kiss your butt.”
Seth: “Mommy! Stop driving and kiss my butt. NOW!”
Me: (Trying to stifle a laugh.) “Yeah. That’s REALLY going to happen Seth. Good luck with that.”

Today I woke up to a very startling and gross site.

I’ll preface to say that most days, once my little man awakens, he heads straight to my and my hubby’s room. He then likes to get into the bed on my side and often times will, like a cat, lay outstretched over/on my head. When this happens, I do notice, I’m a very light sleeper. But I can still lay there with my eyes closed and try to will my body to wake up and start the day.

Today was no different. My hubby was already out of bed and getting ready for work. So then he came upstairs to kiss me good-bye and said, “Oh babe! Slowly move your head toward me and get out of the bed on my side and DON’T look at your pillow.”

I scooted toward him and then looked back at my pillow. THERE WAS POOP ALL OVER MY PILLOW! POOP. IN. MY. HAIR! I freaked out. Seth has had a serious constipation problem over the past year. Actually, he holds it in until his body forces it out. And I guess last night, his intestines said, “He’s sleeping. Let’s get this Shit OUT while he’s too tired to fight us.” So this morning when he woke up, he took his pants off because they were wet. (Luv’s diapers DO NOT hold like the Hoover dam like the commercial boasts. Course neither do the Pampers and Huggies for that matter.) And with his diaper full of poo, he decided to sit on my head and pull my hair as well as parts of my face, like he does every morning. What a way to wake up. Only he left me alittle extra somethin’.

But my hubby deserves props for telling me instead of just acting like nothing was wrong and high-tailing it out door. He admitted he was very tempted to just sneak out. He changed the stinky, mushy, hellacious-smelling diaper while I scrubbed my hair and scalp like a madwoman. The one good thing about it is that it took my mind off of the migraine that is coming on and slowly growing worse. And the big swig of sour milk I took this morning from a gallon I bought just yesterday. I can tell this is going to be a GOOD day!

Someone just shoot me now. Please?

Tonight I lied to my son.

This is nothing new really. I do it all of the time. But its either one of two lies… There’s the ‘Sorry sweetie you can’t have any more candy. Its all gone.” And I hide the candy so that he sees there is no more left. And then there’s the “Everyone in the world is asleep but you Seth. You’ve got to go to bed.” When I have to use this whopper, it is usually because I’m still trying to get him to settle down and its 10:30 or 11:00 p.m.

But tonight was different. He, Abbey-dog and I went to the all-girls’ school where the Quackers family lives to toss some Cherrios. The weather has been gorgeous lately so instead of watching tv, I’ve been trying to get him outside hoping he’ll wear himself out sooner and also to thinking maybe if he moves around more he won’t be so damn constipated. As he so chronically is.

As it was getting dark, I told him we had to go home. He got upset. So I told him that if he didn’t come home with me (He had gotten out of the car-thingg I was pushing him in) then he would get eaten by little animals that come out at night looking for little boys. That did it. He got in his little car and I pushed him home.

I feel sorta bad. I lied and I used fear to get him to do what I wanted. But you can’t reason with a two-year-old caveman. Especially one like his father who is as stubborn as the sun is hot.

When I was five or six, my mom told me a whopper. And I believed her for a number of years. She was walking me to school one day and as we waited to cross the street I asked her why we had to say the Pledge of Alligence every day. She said, “So you don’t get hit by a car.” You’d better believe that I wholeheartedly said my pledge every day after that. And when I tease my mom about that she says, “Well. It worked didn’t it?”

So someday when Seth says, “Remember mom when you used to say that about animals coming after little boys at night,” I’ll have to retort something along those lines.

“Well. You’re still here, aren’t ya?”