the one where i refer to pubic hair as grass
yup, i just wrote “pubic hair” in the title of this post. sorry mom.
confession: paul and i are lazy when it comes to bathing jackson. i know, i know, he’s two and a half, goes to preschool, is all germy mcgerm… but we don’t bathe him every day.
sometimes, we go TWO DAYS without giving him a bath.
and somedays, we just toss him in the shower with one of us, which lately has turned into an interesting adventure.
he’ll bring a few squirt toys in the shower (which consists of tub and curtain) and play and splash. either paul or i, which ever one of us is with jackson, goes about our business and jackson occupies himself. sometimes, to make things super fun, i even plug the bath tub and he gets all happy and wonderful because it’s like a combo deal.
once either paul or i are done cleansing ourselves we then wash jackson and voila, you have yourself a showered parent and child. kinda goes along with that whole “put on your own oxygen mask before helping others with their oxygen mask” thing.
obviously we’re pretty comfortable with our son seeing us naked at this point in time. i mean, we’re not a “naked family”… i’d get too cold. but, we are perfectly fine changing in front of jackson, running down the hall to the laundry room sans pants to fish clothing out of the laundry that has been washed and dried but not yet folded.
so it should really come as no surprise to me when paul told me “jackson peed on my foot while in the shower.”
but it did. i did the whole wide-eyed “HE DID WHAT?!??”
because i’ve never… NEVER peed in the shower before.
::side eyes::
anyway, jackson was playing in the shower, paul was… showering, and jackson took it upon himself to scope out his own penis. so he announced it to paul, “dad, what’s this?” and paul responds, “that’s your penis.” showering/playing continues and then jackson says, “DAD HAS A PENIS TOO!!!” and paul responds, “yes, all boys have penises.”
and then jackson says, “AND DAD HAS A PENIS AND JACKSON HAS A PENIS AND MOM HAS A PENIS TOO!!! ALL THE PENISES!!!”
apparently jackson couldn’t contain his excitement (though we do make him pee in the potty before showering) and thus urinated on paul’s foot in the shower.
while rinsing off, paul attempts to explain that only boys have penises but jackson is too enthralled with this new discovery that he runs down the hall to find me.
“MAAAHHHHHM, JACKSON HAS PENIS!!!”
“i know baby. isn’t that great?”
“AND DAD HAS A PENIS AND JACKSON AND MOM HAS A PENIS TOO!!! WHOLE FAMILIES PENISES!!!”
::BLINK::
::BLINK::
::BLINK::
paul saunters out, tells me, “jackson found his penis and then peed on my foot in the shower.”
super.
so a few days pass, cuz ya know, we don’t bathe our kid, and today i bring jackson in the shower with me. he gathers a few bath toys, i plug the tub for the combo shower/bath deal, and all is well.
while i thought jackson was playing, i take a moment to rinse shampoo out of my hair. shame on me for closing my eyes while doing this. because it was during that 42 seconds of shampoo rinsing that jackson took it upon himself to pat my vagina thus touching my pubic hair.
::PAT PAT PAT::
i say nothing. absolutely nothing. i don’t know what to say. i don’t want to be all “JACKSON, JESUS CHRIST DON’T TOUCH THAT!!!” so i say nothing. we finish our shower, hop out, and dry off.
after i dry off, i wrap my towel around my hair, jackson has hit hoodie rabbit towel wrapped around himself.
“mom’s all dry now.”
“yup bud, shower is all done. we’re all clean and dry.”
then this little hand comes unraveled from the hoodie rabbit towel, pats my vagina and asks, “mom, what’s that?”
“uhh…”
he ceases the patting and then pulls, “mom, THAT… what’s THAT?”
“it’s grass, jackson. that’s mommy’s grass.”
extraction of the sperminator
it’s no secret that i’ve been stung by the bug… THE bug.
it’s also no secret that i have referred to my IUD as “the sperminator” since having it err… inserted placed shortly after my 6 week post magoo birthing, now almost 2 years ago.
it is no secret that i have a husband whose sperm defied the birth control pill i had been on and taken religiously since i was 17 years old.
ladies and gents, let this be a lesson to us all that there is a reason why the pill is 98% effective… the other 2% is the magoo.
so all that being said, we’re now talking about magoo 2.0!!!
the thought of having another little nuglet and expanding our family even more thrills both paul and i.
we never had to have THE CONVERSATION… like the whole “Well, do you want a baby?” “I dunno, I mean are we ready for that?” “Well, I dunno but maybe we’re ready, whatever that means…” conversation because i didn’t know i was pregnant with jackson when i was indeed pregnant with jackson.
i digress… having THE CONVERSATION in itself is an interesting experience… it kinda reminded me of a game of “go fish” where you go back and forth and back and forth and friggin back and forth.
Me: “Well, do YOU think we’re ready for this?”
Him: “I guess… I mean, I know for sure I won’t be deployed for 18 months.”
Me: “OK, well that’s a good thing. So at least you’ll be around for this pregnancy…” (*snort* and heavy sarcasm since paul missed me in all my glory of the 3rd trimester and came home just in time for me to start hating life and sleep in the guest room while sitting up because of my righteous heartburn.)
Him: “Well yeah, I’ll be around… and I guess we’ll just see where we are sent after that.”
Me: “UGH NAVY!!!!”
*big sigh*
“go fish.”
so here’s the deal… there are quite a few things that need to fall into place in order for me to indeed be with child.
numero uno: MEGA importance… i need a KILLER OBGYN. i LOVED my last one and if you’re goina be all up in my biznass for 9 months and delivering the little body that comes out of my body, i need to be uber cool with you. also, you can’t be a dude. sorry. it’s nothing personal, men. i know there are FANTASTIC male OBGYNs out there in the world, but they will never be mine simply because i am a rape survivor and the ONLY man allowed ANYWHERE near my vag is my husband. period.
part B: i need a serious discussion with my doctor about properly weaning off my anxiety meds. i’ve done this before and there is one medication that i am capable of weaning myself off of because of my prior experience with it, but i have two others as well that i need to make sure i get off of the right way. so that’s a pretty big factor with me as well.
and three: i need to have the sperminator removed. i have the mirena IUD which has worked well for me, and not so well according to some of my blogging friends. there is no “waiting period” in terms of hormone regulation etc once it is removed. so once that sucker is out… well… you can figure that out yourself.
then again, any sort of waiting period really wouldn’t be an issue with us as paul’s sperm shoots through birth control like a sniper.
so THE APPOINTMENT was made last week. i got a FANTASTIC recommendation for a female OBGYN by my primary care doctor and made the “extraction appointment” for april 29th.
it should be noted that jackson turns 2 on april 22nd, one week before sperminator extraction.
it should also be noted that the morning following the sperminator extraction, april 30th, paul and i leave for a vacation to the dominican republic for 5 days.
will we come home with the seed planted for a dominican love-child? probably not. i will most likely still be in the midst of weaning off meds… and i most definitely want to enjoy the swim up tiki bar at the resort we are staying at.
after the vacay though… GAME ON!!!
and when the day comes that we do find out we are in deed with magoo 2.0, my liver will curse me for 9 straight months as i will be forced to deprive it of its wine.
it’s ok sweet liver… we’ll make it through…
let’s talk scalding hot cooters
cuz i almost lost mine this morning. yes, my cooter came THIS CLOSE to dying a horrific and blistering death this morning thanks to scalding hot coffee and sleep deprivation.
if you saw my tweets this morning, you may have experienced the aftermath of my near-cooter-demise…
mind you, i am not currently covered in lower abdominal boils, nor are there any pinkish, tender areas of said cooter region… but HOLY CRAP YA’LL it was traumatizing, and most definitely NOT how one wants to wake up in the morning, especially a monday morning.
because, mondays suck. no matter what takes place during your day… if it’s a monday, it sucks. sorry, but it just does.
if the week began on a tuesday, tuesdays would suck. alas, it begins on a monday, thus mondays suck.
back to my cooter…
i’m lucky enough to have one of those fantastically hot husbands who gets up before i do in the morning and brings me coffee in bed. ((((swoon)))) i know, and i love every second of it, especially when he brings me a dark chocolate covered biscotti along with the coffee.
paul knows i need AT LEAST one cup of coffee running through my veins before i can begin to contemplate my day with the magoo. on special occasions, like president’s day, or mondays when paul needs to get to work early because he has a class to teach at 7:55, he’ll add not one BUT TWO shots off espresso to my coffee.
a friend of ours once told us this coffee beverage is referred to as a “hammer head,” but we prefer to be crude about it and create out own names using both the words “hammer” and “head” on an individual basis in order to create such inappropriate names.
it’s fun.
so, this morning, paul gets up with his alarm… he shaves… and then proceeds to make my “jack hammer” out in the kitchen while i continue to sleep peacefully. he places the delicious beverage on my nightstand along with a dark chocolate covered biscotti, and then wakes me up…
BY SHAKING ME VIOLENTLY BECAUSE OTHERWISE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO WAKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER!!!
once paul sees me adjust myself from the position of fully laying down to sitting somewhat upright and sipping my coffee, he goes to the bathroom to shower and continue his morning routine.
little did he know that i would fall back to sleep while sitting up…
AND SPILL FUCKING COFFEE WITH FUCKING ESPRESSO ON MY FUCKING COOTER!!!
i mean for christ’s sake, i close my eyes for ONE SECOND and the coffee mug goes…
give me a break!!!
so my lower abdomen that houses my c-section scar, thereby giving me two bellies, is scalded through my tshirt. and then i raise the tshirt and see BELOW…
and the underpants (don’t worry, they were boy-shorts, not granny panties) were soaked…
my cooter was MAGENTA with fury.
i lept out of bed, but this of course meant that i spilled that much more of my “head jack” on the bed, wasting that much more of the lusciously caffeinated beverage and soaking our sheets.
the now 1/4 cup mug of coffee is placed on my nightstand, the dark chocolate biscotti still awaits tantalizing my taste buds, and i disrobe. i strip down, leaving my coffee-soaked tshirt and underpants on the sheets and light blanket that have been covered in the “jack hammer” that paul made for me to enjoy.
i knock on the bathroom door. paul opens it.
HIM: “hey.”
ME: “move over. i spilled the fuckin coffee and i’m soaked.”
HIM: “that sucks.”
ME: “no shit. move over.”
HIM: “are you hurt?”
ME: “well, it didn’t feel good.” (then showing him my MAGENTA pink abdomen)
HIM: “dang.”
ME: “yeah, thanks. shampoo please.”
and thus began my monday… how was yours???
Have a Sip
