MORE bodily functions...

'Cause I have a toddler... so a good 75% of my life revolves around bodily functions and sadly, not even my own.

Yesterday Vivi got quiet. And the #1 rule of parenting is: when it gets quiet, you should investigate. I ducked my head back into the den to see my sweet angelic baby girl squatting on the floor with a Baby Einstein book laid out in front of her. She was studying the book intently, smiling at the illustrations, and even occasionally turning the page. The English-major-geek in me went positively gooey...

"Look!" I gasped to Husband "She's READING A BOOK! That's so freakin' cute! Look at her face-... wait... is she?"

Yep. Baby Girl was red in the face and grunting. Apparently the instinct to peruse a little light reading material while taking your constitutional kicks in quite early.

In this respect, she is truly her grandfathers' (both of them) granddaughter. They've both been kidded endlessly about their trips to the "library" each morning. I had hoped perhaps my delicate Southern flower of a daughter might be a tad more ladylike and discreet.
No dice.
*SIGH*

But here- some cuteness! Husband was trying to take a nap on the couch. I was trying to change my daughter's clothes. Vivi had other ideas for all of us.








"Dada...are you in here???"









"Share the couch, man!"

Bodily Functions Abound... AGAIN!

To quote my friend Wubbzy, Wow! Wow! That really is the only way to convey what’s happened in the last few weeks. Let’s have some Reader’s Digest versions of events, shall we?

Thanksgiving: Miraculously easy drive down and first few days. And on the last day, baby devolved into a demon, conditions for the drive home were deplorable, and both parents came down with a stomach flu from the very most horrible depths of hell whilst still on the road. A big ol’ shout-out of thanks to my Grandma Bird for putting the baby’s Christmas stocking in that jumbo Ziploc storage bag. That baggie came in miiiighty handy round about the GA/SC state line when I had to finally admit that I was NOT just carsick and would NOT be ok if I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Job News: Mama’s getting laid off. January 31st. My thoughts? Does this suck? Yep. Does it suck worse than waking up in Darfur and fearing for my family’s very survival every minute of the day? No farking way. See my point? You know I’m a big fan of perspective and so I say to you that this, my friends, is just a job. I’ll find another one.

Sleeping: I stuck to my guns and refused to the do the cry-it-out thing while Viv was very small. I still believe that was the right decision. But a few weeks ago, Mama reached a breaking point… a huge, ugly, weepy, full-of-semi-disturbing-thoughts breaking point. And in consultation with a psychiatric professional (and my sister…whom I consider my own personal amateur shrink), I came to the life-altering realization that my kid was working the system. Big time. At a year, she was not waking up and hollering for me out of some unmet need, she was just used to getting her way and would prefer to have ME put her back to sleep rather than settling herself. It took precisely three nights to bring Viv around to the new regime. There was some crying (amazingly none from me.). There were turns taken in going in to reassure her she had not been abandoned to be raised by wolves. Then, suddenly, there were whispered conversations like this:
“….wait…. is she… ASLEEP?”
“shut UP! You’re going to jinx it!”
“…no, really…listen…NOTHING…”
“oh my God… that was too fast, too easy…”
“I know… I have to pee, but…”
“hold it… the bathroom floor is creaky…”
“seriously… we have to shut UP…”
“so, since she’s asleep…*rustle, rustle*.”
“are you kidding me?! this bed is creaky too!”
“I’ll go close the door…”
“No! Nobody moves! Nobody talks! Nobody breathes! Nobody pees! Nobody has sex! NOBODY RUINS THIS SLEEPING THING WITH TRIVIAL BIOLOGICAL NEEDS!”

What’s that? Didn’t my child just have a very important birthday? Why yes, yes she did! And since YOU brought it up, it won’t be obnoxious mommy bragging on my part to force on yo- er, I mean.. show you these adorable pictures!

An Entire Post about Pee

OK, so the entire post isn't exactly about pee itself... but there's a definite urological theme here. Stick with me, folks! I promise this story gets better!

Item #1: Middle Sister is getting her kidney transplant January 6th!! Woo hoo!!!! My cousin is a match and all systems are go. (Get it? Systems? Go? Kidneys? Urinary tract-themed entry? No? Fine. Be that way.)

Item #2: It happened again the other night. I was JUST at the bathroom door with moisturizer and floss in hand ready to get ready for be- GAH! The door. Shutting. Husband had to pee. When he emerged, I made this observation:
"Four years of marriage and watching me push two babies out of my vagina and you STILL can't pee in front of me?"
Now, I know what you're saying... lots of women would probably KILL for their husbands to shut the door and run the water when they pee. Don't get me wrong, I am all about keeping some mystery in your marriage. Husband and I don't pass gas in each other's company and we certainly don't even DISCUSS what else goes on behind that closed bathroom door. That's private time.
But peeing? I grew up in a house with three sisters. If you didn't pee with an audience, you'd have to wet your pants because there was no way you were getting the one bathroom to yourself for something so trivial as urinating. So I admit that I am probably a little fast and loose with my pee privacy. And I realize that Husband grew up with an opposite-sex sibling, meaning the game was a bit different for him.
Childhood bathroom wars aside, I pointed out to Husband that since he HAD seen me birth two children and the subsequent aftermath, continuing to so fiercely guard against me seeing him pee just seems like a very selfish and unfair advantage in the dignity department. To which he replied "So THAT'S what this is all about..." Damn skippy! Well, ok, so not. That's only part of it.
Not to go all Oprah-relationship-expert-special on you, but don't you think that a man who truly trusts his wife, who is secure in his marriage, who is willing to expose his most vulnerable and not always perfect emotional self to her would also be willing to expose... uh... other things at vulnerable and not-so-great moments? I mean, really... this not peeing in front of me could be indicative of much bigger issues. It's a wonder we've managed to stay married this long with such a raw festering emotional wound between us.
I conveyed these theories to Husband. He was unmoved. In fact, all he said was this:
"I smell blog entry."
Smartass.