Boys.

Sam, at the ripe old age of three and a half, has developed a new interest.

Potty humor.

He was playing in the sandbox at school last week, and announced upon my arrival that he was making “poop pie.” Today as we were driving home, I asked him what he had for lunch. His response? “Poopyhead!” I thought I didn’t hear him correctly at first and asked him to repeat himself – sure enough, “Poopyhead!” I said that wasn’t a nice word and I didn’t like it, and he said “It starts with an S so that means it’s not a bad word.”

Yeah, we still have some work to do on letters. And apparently also on logic.

As you may or may not have noticed, Jenny has no problem with disgusting topics (ok I have to stop linking to posts within the category “bodily functions” before I lose my lunch). I, however, prefer not to discuss such matters. I use curse words way more than Jenny does though so I’m in no way claiming vocabularial (I made that word up, but I like it) superiority – I just think it is revolting, and saying words that Jenny will freely title a blog post with makes me physically uncomfortable.

So anyway, what am I going to do with Sam and his new fascination? I want to make it stop!!!!

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This Just In: I’m Still 12

As I posted Friday, I had to take Joshua to the pediatrician because of a mysterious stomach ailment.  The pediatrician asked about a million questions and then said he needed more information, so he asked me to keep a poop and food diary on Joshua for two weeks.

That’s right, for the next two weeks, I have to look at Joshua’s poop and write down my observations about it’s size, color, consistency, etc.

I love being a mom.  Really, this is the stuff I’ve always dreamed about.

But back to the asking a million questions part.  The doctor asked Joshua many, many questions that ended in the word, “poop”.

Does it hurt when you poop?

When you’re eating, do you feel like you have to poop?

Is there any blood on the toilet paper when you poop?

PoopPoopPoopPoopPoopPoopPoop?

Seriously, after the first question, it was all I could do to not burst out in an ugly, raspberry-esque hysterical laughter.  I had to bite the inside of my mouth and stare down at the top of my son’s head to keep from losing control.

Because there’s something about a learn-ed M.D. saying the word “poop” over and over that brings me to the basest level of immaturity possible.

I couldn’t breathe for a full 30 seconds after he’d said his last “poop” for fear of losing it.  And, since I’ve made a fool of myself in front of this doctor over bowel movements before, I really did not want to lose control.

But I was thisclose.

So, I think my much more solemn and mature husband should attend the follow-up appointment, don’t you?  Because since it is going to involve careful examination of aforementioned poop diary, I don’t think I can be trusted to hold it together.

What makes you giggle like a pre-adolescent boy?

(P.S. – POOP!!!! Made ya laugh!)


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Digest THIS. Or diagnose it for me.

Today after school, I am taking Joshua to the doctor for a mysterious stomach ailment.  It has his stomach in knots and my blood pressure DANGEROUSLY HIGH.   High blood pressure with a side of RAGE.

What’s happening is, Joshua is at least once a day, feeling “sick” DURING a meal.  So he eats some, feels sick, wants to go lay down or try to puke, never does puke, and usually within 10 minutes or so can finish at least some of the meal.

The foods involved are totally random.  The times of day are totally random.  I don’t think he’s faking it, but we’ve been battling this off and on for two months, and I am the one who’s really sick – SICK OF IT.  I am beyond frustrated.

He never throws up, hasn’t had any weird bowel issues, just says he feels sick and wants to lay down, or just stop eating for awhile. He even went to the clinic one day at school during lunch, and lunch is his 2nd favorite part of the day (after recess of course).

This all started back in July – he did throw up in July two separate times after CHUGGING chocolate milk at restaurants, so I think maybe that psychologically damaged him and now he’s terrified of getting sick so he is worrying about it so much that he is making himself feel bad.

We’ve taken him off dairy and it hasn’t seemed to have made any difference.

Bobby doesn’t get home til 7 pm, so the kids have already eaten dinner by then. I am tired of doing dinner by myself for years anyways, I ALWAYS have to struggle to get Sophie to eat, and now THIS – it’s making me apoplectic. Joshua thinks I am mad at him, which is probably making his whole psychosomatic stomach problem worse. I am not mad at him, but I am BEYOND frustrated and I can’t really hold that in anymore.  I can barely hold ANY frustration in by dinner time, which again, I might add, I do by myself five nights a week, outnumbered three to one.

So, how about it, readers? Diagnose my kid for me. That way you can save me a $30 copay at the pediatrician’s office.  And though you probably can’t save my kid from intense counseling and therapy because his mom is so mean, the extra $30 could at least go toward those future therapy bills.  You have until 4:10 PM, Eastern time to figure this one out for me. GO!

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