Sometimes when I'm blog-surfing
can I smash that into blurfing or is that too much of a stretch?
I am entertained and somewhat jealous of all the Mommy bloggers with little ones. It seems they have a bottomless well (toilet) of material at their disposal with which to craft their stories, what with all the poo and the pee and the puke flying about their house at all hours of the day and night.
Writer's block? How about a humorous anecdote about some poo?
It's funny. It's timeless. We can all relate. And it flows from the keyboard like a sour stream of yellow neonatal excrement.
But then I sit down to write and I've got nothin'.
My kids are big now. With the youngest an elderly 11 and the oldest ready to leave the house in a couple more years
please God
their diaper-bursting, poo-painting, potty-training days are, thank the Lord, a thing of our past.
However
uh-oh
now that I think on it, bodily excretions have not totally left the building, metaphorically speaking.
Let's play a little game of That Was Then, This Is Now, shall we?
That Was Then
Brown sticky substance covering the hands and face and nearby walls of the toddler. Mother Senses are in full state of arousal as you slowly slip on a HAZMAT suit while never breaking eye contact with the child...
This Is Now
Brown sticky substance covering the hands and faces of your Easter basket junkies. You grab their hands and sniff. Then taste. Then ask for a piece.
That Was Then
Putting little pee-soaked Princess panties in the washer and thinking, 'if only she had stopped playing to get in to the potty on time....'
This Is Now
Putting large pee-soaked granny panties in the washer and thinking, 'if only I hadn't sneezed....'
That Was Then
Cleaning drops of pee from the toilet, the floor surrounding the toilet, the walls around the toilet, and the baseboard heater next to the toilet (which, by the way, seems to aerosolize urine droplets in a Glade-air-freshener-candle-from-Hell kind of way)
This Is Now
Cleaning drops of pee from the toilet, the floor surrounding the toilet, the walls around the toilet, and the baseboard heater next to the toilet (which, by the way, seems to aerosolize urine droplets in a Glade-air-freshener-candle-from-Hell kind of way)
That Was Then
Staring at poo in the toilet, your face contorted, you jump around the bathroom, hands waving madly in the air, and yell loudly, "You pooped in the potty, hurraaaaaay!"
This Is Now
Staring at poo in the toilet, your face contorted, you jump around the bathroom, hands waving madly in the air, and yell loudly, "Who forgot to flush? That's disguuuuuusting!"
That Was Then
Between pregnancies and nursing it had been so long since you'd had a visit from Aunt Flo that you almost grew to miss her.
This Is Now
Between fluctuating hormones and your body shriveling up before your eyes it has been so long since you've had a visit from Aunt Flo you almost ....no-no-no. Here's your hat, what's your hurry Flo you old bag?
That Was Then
Your children come in from playing outside. They smell of sweat and dirt and somehow peach marmalade. You hug them tightly.
This Is Now
Your children come in from playing outside. They smell of B.O. And sweat. And B.O. You keep them at arm's reach and admonish them about the liberal use of hygiene products.
That Was Then
You walk into the bathroom and see your five year old, pair of scissors in hand and a line of 1/4" bangs running crookedly across her guilty face .
This Is Now
You walk into the bathroom and see your 15 year old very carefully shaving the one hair off his chin because he "needed to shave".
That Was Then
You securely latch the straps of his car seat and adjust his little mirror. He smiles as he jiggles the teether keyring you just handed him. You sigh and think, "How did he get so big? Seems like just yesterday I brought my baby home from the hospital."
This Is Now
He securely latches his seat belt and adjusts his rear-view mirror. He smiles as he jiggles the car keys you just handed him. You sigh and think, "How did he get so big? Seems like just yesterday I brought my baby home from the hospital."
That Was Then
#986.
This Is Now
#16
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Sunday, March 6, 2011
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1 comment:
I have a 11 year old and a 9 year old, and I find that I have MUCH more to say these days than I did when they were babies. Much more to say. I am rarely blocked, as blog material drops from my daughters' mouths as they walk around the house.
Listen to your kids and their conversations closely.
Lots of material there.
LOTS.
Although, I do so identify with the sneezing and the leakage.
Annoying.
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