It's Not What You Say, It's How You Say it

Buddy is going through a phase that I've heard many a parent lament about...the dreaded potty talk. Everything equates to poo. EVERYTHING! We cannot eat a meal without it being compared to poo. His brother is now known as poo poo head.....it's nauseating. Apparently no amount of time outs or threats are working to combat this poo phenomenon and it's making Super Husband and I crazy.

Anyway, yesterday we went to a birthday party and all was well. The day was finally drawing to a close and we were driving along the highway to get home. Both kidlets were happily chattering in the back. Little Man suddenly starts yelling, "Fuck, Fuck"! As in perfectly enunciated....clear as day. Super Husband just about loses control of the car when I turn around and realize that Little Man is pointing to the 18 wheeler beside us. Thank GOD....he means TRUCK! So the remaining ride home goes something like this:

Me: It's TRuck...T...T...T...R-U-C-K. Can you say TRRRUUUCK?
Little Man: Fuck
Buddy: Poo Poo Head!
Me: Try Again. TRRRRRUCK.
Little Man: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Me: T. Say T! T-T-T-T....
Buddy: Poo...Poo....Poo Bum!

Seriously. If the ride was being recorded I'm sure it would secure us as a top contender for parents of the year.

And let's face it. It's useless to give Buddy crap for talking poo when his brother is dropping the F-Bomb left, right and center.

Oh well. Today is a brand new day, right?

...Apparently There are Some Body Parts you Just Don't Need

Tonight has been one of "those" nights. You know, the type that needs to end in drinking mass quantity of alcohol ;)

It was a hectic day at work. Today marked "Go-Live" of the HR System I was hired to implement and manage. It took 9 months from project kickoff to get here, so needless to say although proud and happy....it's been an exhausting run.

So, when 5pm hit, I was READY to pick the guys up and head home.

I picked them up, packed them up and got out of there without issue (score)! I even walked them all the way home without any meltdowns. You see....this is when I should have known it would go South. These brief periods of calmness never last for us.

I get up to the house and un-clip the guys from the stroller. Both jump out and instead of going inside as I asked, bolted the other way. Under the giant evergreen tree they adore in the front. No amount of coaxing is working....I had to as per usual resort to slinking under the tree and hunting them down (aka: running around the tree 8 times). Finally got them out and Buddy bolts next door. Now I'm just getting pissy. I'm tired. Hungry. Done. To prove this point I revoked my prior promise of outside play after dinner. The result? screaming, crying and the usual drama. I finally got Buddy inside the house kicking and screaming. In the meantime, Little Man is looking Guilty and Slinky. I knew it right away: poo. Damn! Now I have one kid screaming and the other one with a full load. And dinner is nowhere in sight...

At this point I make the hasty decision to run into the kitchen and start something - quick. In the literally 30 seconds I was in there Buddy ramped up the tantrum. I called to him to come in and "help with dinner" which usually works to distract him and for a second I thought it worked - I could hear him approaching - when....BAM! I heard him fall. Then really, really bad crying. The kind that makes you stop in your tracks because you know it just aint right.

So, I ram out to find Buddy spewing blood from his mouth. Bad. Out come the ice packs and lots of paper towels. I literally couldn't figure out where it was originating from until the bleeding slowed. Then I realized when I pulled his upper lip up....the little piece of skin that connects the inside of his upper mouth to his gums was non-existent. Completely severed. His gums were already turning purple. Lovely.

While I'm attending to this drama I have Little Man pulling at my pants yelling, "BumBumBumBumBum".... Because the overwhelming stench of shit didn't clue me in to the fact he needed to be changed, apparently.

Meanwhile, my chana masala is boiling over on the stove.

I finally get the blood slowed, Buddy under control, Little Man changed and juuuust get them settled when Super Husband walks in.....

You know what they say: timing is everything.

Oh, I did call Telehealth and apparently Buddy will be just fine. The frenulum may or may not reatach....but in either case he is going to be a-okay....because apparently it serves no purpose anyway. Go figure.

I think my scars from the evening will take longer to heal :)