Anatomy 101

Growing up in a family of nurses I learned many valuable lessons.  I learned that 99.9 degrees is not a fever (Hear that, daycare?  Stop calling me.)  I learned the difference between diarrhea and loose stools (yes, there is a difference and yes, that may be a little gross for some of you).  I also learned the anatomically correct terms for body parts.  

I was reminded of how important that last one was during a deposition a few months back when the witness was discussing her recurring decubutis ulcers (yes, a little gross again...I'm on a roll).  While discussing her most recent ulcer, she stated that it had developed on her "tootie."  Yes, the witness, a sixty-something year old woman, referred to her "girly bits" as a "tootie."  I actually had to stop and think about what she was referring.  

We've made it a point to use anatomically correct terms with the boys as well.  I stand by our decision, but it sure does make for interesting conversation, especially with the boys' incomparable inquisitiveness.  Below are some of my favorites:  

Charlie:  "Mommy, look my penis is huge...oh, wait.  No, it's not.  What happened?"

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Beau:  "Why do girls have bigger nipples than boys?"

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Charlie:  (pointing) "What's this?"
Me:  "That's your scrotum."
Charlie:  "Oh, well, then my scrotum itches."

*** 

Beau:  (In the bathtub with all three boys) "Well, I've got the biggest penis in this tub."

*** 

Beau:  "Mommy, so boys have penises but girls do not, right?"

Me:  "That's right, Beau." 

Beau:  "Well, then what do girls have?"

Me:  "Well, girls have vaginas."

Beau;  "Vagina?!  What's a vagina good for?!"

I'm sure as they grow older (and wiser?) the questions will keep on coming, each one a little more cringe-worthy than the last.  But I'll keep answering them.  What else can I do?

The Hunting Widow

In a time long ago and far away, I was a hunting widow.  Each winter Billy would leave me alone for days at a time to go into the woods and slay a deer...or drink lots of beer - potato, potato. My friends would lament my misfortune.  Poor hunting widow - all alone.  Are you kidding me?  I loved being a hunting widow.  I got to watch my old Natalie Wood movies, drink wine, and go to bed at 8pm without judgment...And then we had kids.

So last weekend I was thrilled when I got a glimpse of my former life.  Billy took the older two hunting and left me with just one kid.   JUST.ONE.KID.  Oh my God!  No offense to my friends with only children, but taking care of one child is soooo easy!  With just one kid I was able to get so much done: oil change - check; grocery - check; post office - check; Sam's - check; Target - check; Wal-mart (yes, Wal-mart) - check; seven loads of laundry - check; sort and reorganize Luke's clothes - check; crochet a Mardi Gras infinity scarf - check.  Yes, I'd say I was productive.  

As I laid in bed at 8pm reading my Harper's Bazaar I thought, "Poor Billy.  He's got his hands full taking care of those boys."  He was taking them away from home.  He had to get three square meals in them.  Keep them relatively groomed.  And on top of that, he had to have the patience to bring them in a deer stand for hours.  Then they came home.  

I heard the garage door open, then the laundry room door.  Then Beau bounded into the kitchen, "Where's Luke?"  Seriously.  "Where's Luke?"  Well, I missed you too, Buddy. But as he got closer I realized that he smelled like an armpit.  Charlie apparently followed quickly behind - I know because I smelled him before I saw him.  "Where's Luke, Mommy?"  As much as their lack of concern for me stung, my nose stung worse from their foul odor.  Turns out that in their three days at the hunting camp they managed to completely avoid a bathtub.  

Later while we were playing outside (I mean, I had to get them outside; the breeze helped dissipate the smell of wet dog) I asked what they ate while at the hunting camp.  "Candy," Beau replied.  "No, I mean like for dinner."  "Candy."  "Ok, fine.  What did you have for breakfast?"  "Candy."  "Charlie, what did you eat?"  "Candy."  Three days, and apparently their grocery shopping was completed at the 7/11.  (Do they still have 7/11s?)

"Well, at least y'all got to see some deer."  "We didn't go hunting," said Beau.  "What?"  "No, I was sleeping," explained Charlie.  Yep, that's right.  A three day hunting trip without a single hunt.  But they had a hell of a time.  

Well, turns out my guilt was for naught.  In three days, the boys avoided the tub, a decent meal, and an actual hunt.  But darn it if they don't look cute in their camo!  Now, can't wait until Luke is old enough to join them.  

It's Carnival Time

On December 26th the boys woke me up asking, "Mommy, what holiday is next?"  Unimpressed by the prospect of New Year's Eve, they quickly added, "Nope.  What's next?"  Well, when they heard the Mardi Gras was around the corner they were stoked.  In fact, they demanded that we immediately take down all Christmas decorations...which they did...without my help...while I was upstairs alone with Luke.

After cleaning up a few broken ornaments and applying a couple of band-aids we completed an inventory of Mardi Gras decorations.  We then decided we needed more. One trip to Hobby Lobby later and I determined there are just not enough good Mardi Gras decorations available.  And since I've got ALL this free time on my hands to whip up my own, I'll guess we'll make due with what we have. 

After the boys' enthusiastic assistance with putting up and taking down the Christmas decorations, I had high hopes for some serious little helpers.  Apparently decorating for Mardi Gras is far less appealing than a rerun of Peppa Pig.  

Without my little helpers I was actually grateful to have only a few decorations to put up.   I have to say, taking down Christmas decorations would be a lot more depressing if I couldn't switch them right out with Mardi Gras decorations.  

New Year's Resolutions

About ten years ago I made a New Year's Resolution to never make a New Year's Resolution again.  Well, I can't seem to keep even that one.  As I sit here I am contemplating several resolutions.  But, que sera.  

First resolution is to update this blog more.  Yes, I know my six followers are jumping for joy.  You're welcome.  But, on a purely selfish note, I love writing on here and documenting my family as it grows.  And honestly, this blog is the closest thing any of my kids are getting to a baby book.  While I haven't set a hard and fast number of posts per day/week/month (I mean, that's just setting myself up for failure), I want to just do better.  

And on that note, my next resolution is to take more pictures.  No, not on the phone.  I want to take more pictures with my *real* camera.  You know, like I used to before I had three kids.  Besides, if I'm actually going to update this blog, I'm going to need more photos.  My random musings and occasional stream of consciousness posts can only take this thing so far.  

And while I'm at it, I'm resolving to be in more photos.  This is tough since I'm usually the one taking the photos and, it seems like every time I ask someone else to take a picture, well, it's not up to snuff.  But, I'll just have to put all that behind me and make an effort to occasionally hand the camera over.  

I'm feeling pretty good about the odds here, especially since last year I only posted three times.  So, here goes nothing.