August 31, 2005
next time, I will bring my own Lysol
Once I came out of my Benadryl haze today, I realized that I hadn’t written anything about how Henry is doing in school and how happy he is and how happy WE are and how much we love his teacher and how she got him to touch a slice of orange to his tongue last week and what a great place this is for all of us. And honestly I was going to do it this afternoon.
But then I decided that it would be fun to stop at the bookstore on the way home from school and play for a while. We were there for forty five minutes. We made THREE trips to the restroom (which, by the way, is NOT CLEAN, not even the women’s room, which is why I’m not naming the bookstore). First Henry has to go potty. So we plod off to the bathroom and he tries to poop. No luck. Back to the children’s section and the train. Then he announces that he thinks he might have had an accident but he isn’t sure and will I check? And I say NOT HERE, so we go BACK to the third-world women’s room (no accident, but he is all whacked out from his allergies and not eating lunch at school. Oh, and waking up at 4:30 this morning to ask me to play with him. Stuff like that). He sits on the potty while Charlie touches EVERYTHING. We wash our hands (a whole production in itself) and return to the kids section. We collect some Halloween books and sit down to read, and sure enough, Charlie has a poopy diaper. Which he tris to blame on another child playing nearby. A complete stranger, even! So we go BACK to the the hazmat restroom and change the diaper (which is a nightmare as Charlie is WAAAAAYYYY too big for the plastic changing table and whines the ENTIRE time about how much his back hurts. Boo hoo, learn to use the potty, boy! And stop whining). While I was changing him, I insisted that Henry try AGAIN to use the potty. Which he did (try, that is). And we washed up AGAIN and headed back out.
And no sooner had we settled down to read than Henry said, ‘Oh no! I think I need to go poop.’
That was it. I’d had it. I couldn’t bring myself to go BACK in that bathroom, and I was at all out of Kind Patient Mommy Voice. We came home. The boys are watching TV and I am cursing myself for having eaten all the Poppycock. Although I think that what I really need is a martini.
But school is going just great!
Posted by Susan @ 3:17 pm • Uncategorized
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August 31st, 2005 at 4:20 pm, Mary P. Says:
So glad to hear school is going so well. We’ll focus on that, shall we, and let happy memories ease away the toxic toilet trauma. Breathe slowly, breathe deeply… there you go…
(”All out of Kind Patient Mommy Voice”!! I love it.) “That’s it, kids, my quota’s used up. Bedtime! Right now.”
August 31st, 2005 at 5:04 pm, ieatcrayonz Says:
Sometimes all I need is a good poopy and some…not going there.
August 31st, 2005 at 5:25 pm, M&Co. Says:
One of my proudest moments with the GirlChild was the first time she flushed the toilet with her foot. My mantra when we go into a public bathroom is always, “don’ttouchanything.” So when she figured out how to flush, without having to touch anything, I was SO proud.
Now you probably think I’m kidding! I remember the restaurant where we were eating and I distinctly remember going back to the table and telling everyone about it. Yeah, they gave me that look too.
August 31st, 2005 at 7:01 pm, Mainline Mom Says:
Oh that is a good story. I know I have that to look forward to when I have another boy, because I’m destined to have all boys.
September 1st, 2005 at 6:00 am, Heather Says:
When my 2 older were a bit younger they refused to poop. Thats a nightmare I’d not want to relive. Hazmat bathroom…been there done THAT.
And so glad to hear about Henry! Yay! (Now brace yourself for report card time)
H
November 5th, 2006 at 7:27 pm, Anonymous Says:
Are you women for real? You even post your photos? Give me a break. You act like you are the first women who ever raised children. Let me guess…you spend endless hours lamenting the fact that little Jack isn’t on par with month 16 of the “What to Expect the Toddler Years.” I pray God doesn’t give you a real problem.