Terrible Toilet Talk

     We have been horribly disgusting in our house.  We talk about poopy and wee wee and all sorts of bad stuff.  But in our defence, it is a hot topic for a reason.  First of all, we're in the battle of a lifetime with Joshua who has no interest in continuing his basic potty training.  Second, Liam has started a new craze.  He loves it when we read him Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey. We started with #2 Attack of the Talking Toilets and now we've back-tracked to the first book in the series. The premise is that there are two misfit elementary school boys with no conscious (either of them) but shockingly intelligent senses of humor. These two kids would do great on the show Jack-Ass- that is making up the stunts and then getting out of the way while the stars do inflict pain on themselves.  And really, since they're fictional children I really can say they are Jack-Asses.  They pull pranks like putting pepper in the cheerleader's pom poms and somehow persuading cafeteria ladies to mix baking soda and vinegar to make cupcakes (kind of far fetched to assume lunch ladies don't know enough about cooking to catch that error... or is it?).  Anyway, they also know how to write and illustrate- now that is something that as an educator I can appreciate :) .  So they write comics about Captain Underpants a superhero in tighty whities.  Next we're moving on to The Wicked Wedgie Woman and eventually we'll get to the much anticipated... Professor Poopypants.
     Now I've been calling both of my boys "Professor Poopypants" for as long as they've been pooping and insisting that I be the one to clean it up.  But up until now it has had little significance.  Still, to be honest, I doubt they know what the "professor" in "Professor Poopypants" means, except that it sounds ridiculous... and gross.
     Recently the boys have been alternating in their inability to look at a camera and smile.  Liam will look and then roll back his upper lip to reveal only teeth in a freakish jack-o-lantern smile but then Josh will turn his head and say something like "Roar!" instead of looking at the camera.  Or Josh will look at the camera with a mope and Liam will whip his head with his eyes closed.  So if I really do want them both looking and giving me an actual smile, I must resort to "Professor Poopypants" and thus far, the trick hasn't failed me.  Embarrassed me in public, yes, but failed me, no.  And once the pictures are developed, who cares if there's someone in the background of the shot giving us a dirty look?  More times than not, they're actually giggling too because there are very few people who can hear "Professor Poopypants" and not crack at least a little smile (try it, I dare you).
     Is this acceptable in public?  I mean, can kids talk about poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing at a place such as a dinner table?  Or perhaps a better question, is there really any better place to talk of such things?  Now that I recall, Bill and his brothers have been grossing out guests at their family Thanksgiving table looong before any babies were born.  So perhaps it shouldn't surprise me now that all Liam & Joshua and their friends want to talk about at the table is... poopypants, diapers, farts and peeing or variations thereof.  Also, apparently it's not enough to say these things, you must say them loudly so everyone can hear and then laugh so hard they snort milk out of their noses.  So here's my take on this... I've found that some of my personal philosophy has become more malleable (translate: picking battles which can be translated into: being lazy)... it depends on the company?  The first time "pooping" was brought up at a playdate, I did suggest that it wasn't a great topic but ... eventually I let it go because everyone else was. So now that's the hot topic at playdates because apparently if any one of us decided to stick their their original philosophy of no potty talk at the table, they gave up like me (resistance is futile!).  But if poopytalk were to occur in other circles... eh, we'd probably have to put the kabosh in it, which would be no fun at all.
     But back to pooping.  Here's a tip for all you parents of kids with diapers: If you're kid is walking around like he/she has a wedgie, he/she may actually have a wedgie and you may want to take care of the "problem" before the poopsplosion comes (I made that word up, it's not from Captain U, I swear.  I doubt a real author would be able to make up a word with 4 consonants in a row anyway).  My sister was lamenting that she had no other option but to change her one year old baby on a public restroom changing table. We were at a fancy resort. She was staying overnight but her room wasn't ready (thus the unfortunate changing table) and I was just visiting for lunch which is my way of hanging out with the fancypantses even though I can't afford to spend the night!  At any rate, after she fussed over the germs on the surface, using a changing pad from home and a few paper towels for a pillow, I washed off those little fingers with an extra wipey and he was on his way. Then it was Joshua's turn.  He was plopped down bare-assedWhatevs. Unscathed, we walked back to the rest of our party down a long hallway, stopping to look at a nature exhibit and peek into the library (my sister needed a private place to nurse later on since the room wasn't ready).  That's when we noticed how silly he was walking down the hallway "like he had a wedgie".  Yeah, he actually did have a wedgie. Big mistake... BIG mistake.
     After a lovely afternoon mini putt-putting (that has nothing to do with pooping, we were actually golfing), walking in the gardens, feeding the fishies, sipping tea and perusing the gift shop I realized that Joshua was a little stinker.  Really, a little stinker.  So I exited with Josh as Liam went down to feed more fish.  Carrying Joshua down to the bathroom, I realized there was some leakage. This wasn't good.  His other pants were parked in the car- not close by (too cheap for valet).  Hmmmm...  Back to the bathroom with the changing table with no changing pad.  Poopsplosion.  And why?  Because the diaper was only covering one of his cheeks.
     You know how it always happens; you go into a perfectly empty space to do something private and then people end up being right there, flocking to the exact location where you are trying to complete your private deed?  Well, there I was with a disgusting diaper... an external disgusting diaper mess... and suddenly there was someone sitting right behind me in a chair behind the changing table (I could have sat in her lap) and masses of people overtook the sinks... those sinks with precious water and soap and paper towels that I needed.  Did I mention I had no cell phone?  Did I mention my little professor poopypants over here thought the whole thing was hilarious and was kicking his legs and wiggling his butt to and fro? 
     I got rid of the evidence like a pro, forced a diaper on Joshua, wiped down the changing table and plopped him down in the chair that the lady had apparently gotten up from (what better hint do you need then someone's ass in your face and a stink of poop wafting at you head on?).  I set to work at Joshua's pants with some wet paper towels and soap but we all know it was a cob job, the best I could do in the situation.  I can decisively say we both washed our hands thoroughly this time!  Nonchalantly we set back out into the fancy hotel, Joshua with a wet pants butt that he couldn't feel (thanks to his fresh new diaper), me with frizzed out hair and the appearance of someone who was thoroughly defeated.  We walked atop the beautiful Victorian carpet past the detailed wood-work, the luxuriously padded furniture, the classical music drifting through the air... and it was time to go home. 
     My sister walked us to the car and when we got there, I gave her the best advice that I could ever really offer her... "On second thought, don't use those restroom changing tables after all."

Give Me A Break

     Many people don't know this but teachers do quite a bit of work off the clock.  For example, throughout the month of August you will see a trickle of teachers returning to their classrooms to dust off bookshelves, put up bulletin boards and plan for the first few weeks.  We stock the students' desks, rearrange the classroom and even meet up with families.  I was on my way to school on a Saturday for just one of these off the clock work sessions when I got a call from my mother.  She said, "I know you have a lot of work to do today, but please take a break for yourself."  And although the request was completely rational and kind-hearted, I couldn't help but get defensive.  What's a break?  True, I just finished a summer "off" but then why was my house even messier now at the end of August than it had been in June?  Even though I wasn't working all summer, I wouldn't exactly say I was on "break".  Whether you're a mom, a teacher or any number of other jobs and particularly if you are both, there's really no rest for the weary.
     What exactly did my well-meaning mother think I would be doing if not back at school?  Would I be at a spa getting a pedicure?  Not since the morning of my wedding.  Would I be at lunch with a friend?  Only if we both had our kids with us, distracting them from misbehaving by giving them extra syrup on their pancakes.  Would I be exercising?  Only if by exercising you mean Liam sitting on my butt while I try to do downward facing dog while Joshua pulls my hair.  No; a break from school for me would just mean being back at home wondering how it's possible that the kids mess up the house faster than I can clean it and me trying to get work done (like making those cute desk name tags) while Joshua sits on the final product.
     Actually for the time being- in late summer and early fall- school is actually a break for me.  A predictable order of events (until those unpredictable kids show up)! 
     These days I'll settle for just about any form of a break. Today I went to get my haircut.  My last haircut was in March.  It's not too far fetched for someone to relax while getting their hair washed, true, but I actually also look forward to dentist appointments because they give me a chance to recline and relax.  Hey, if I have a cavity, it's even more time off.  I'll even close my eyes.  I knew I really needed a break when I felt relaxed while having my eyebrows waxed. And I did have a break just before school started...  at my allergy testing appointment.  Hey, I didn't have the share the remote or anything.  And they gave me a great pillow to rest my arms on.  So what if I was a little bit itchy!  And earlier this week I had yet another break (seriously, do I ever get work done?) when I went, by myself, to vote and afterwards stop off at the pharmacy for Caladryl for Liam's bug bites.  It was like going on a date... with myself.
     Truly being a mom is rewarding and I do admit, it's quite relaxing in those moments when I'm able to set aside my own work to just watch my kids play together.  Family events too can be relaxing.  Picking apples, going to a fair, having a picnic in the park- all of this can be relaxing if I'm in the right mind-set.  But really being a mom requires that we find creative ways to relax.  Whether or not your mother tells you to relax, you can probably find time to schedule another dentist appointment.  And when you do, ask them if they wouldn't mind reclining your chair a little further back and putting on some soothing music.

Milestones

     "Liam started Kindergarten already? Did you cry?"  No.  No, I did not.  And I didn't think I would either.  For whatever reason, I'm just not emotional about these milestones.  No, that's completely wrong.  I am emotional but shedding tears isn't the right emotion for me.
     First off, I have proof that I am emotional.  I cried at the end of The Help, The Time Traveller's Wife, Life As We Know It and I cried buckets when I watched Jersey Girl.  I also cry when there's just too much to handle in life, when my "cup runneth over" if you will.  And just for the record, I cried relentlessly for a week after my pet ferret died unexpectedly.
     So why am I not emotional about Liam into Kindergarten. Hmmm... maybe it's not a lack of emotion but rather a difference in emotion.  I've never been one to be sad at big occasions.  I don't think I cried at graduation, but I'm pretty sure my stomach did a flip and I got goosebumps.  Moments like those are part of life. Rather than being sad about college being over, why not get excited about what comes next?  I'm not saying I wasn't sad to see my friends go and to abandon the life of less responsibility (who am I kidding, I was more responsible in college than most 30 year olds are living on their own).  I was sad to close that chapter but like all chapters that came before it and after, I knew it was just part of life and that the next experience was just around the corner.  Hmmm... maybe if I knew how mundane everyday life can possibly get at times, I would have been more sad!  And probably if I knew the gravity of work in a real world classroom (versus student teaching and always having that experienced teacher to catch you if you fall or grade those papers you forgot on your desk)
I would have longed to stay put in the world of essays, projects and mid-terms.  I know at all of these major milestones: graduation, wedding, baby shower,... I have been excited and nervous.  I know when I got my own classroom I was scared.  But sadness, no.  I didn't cry at my wedding and I probably won't cry at Liam's (well, maybe I will cry at Liam's wedding). 
     Here's the other side of it.  I have happy memories of the boys as babies but do I wish they were still babies?  Not really.  I think if Liam became a baby again- even if it was just for a day- I'd go crazy trying to talk to him about the scientific principals of the water cycle and not quite getting why he wasn't responding.  That might not make sense.  My point is that I'm not willing to turn back the clock (not that I even could if I wanted to) when we've got so much going right now.  With each year, month, week comes a new set of skills that the boys learn, more shared experiences, more growth.  So am I sad that Liam is going into Kindergarten?  Am I crying thinking about taking him home from the hospital? No, I'm smiling because I wouldn't trade this kid, right now for anyone else in the universe.
     So what emotions am I feeling?  I'm happy and I've got that nervous excitement thing going too.  Bill could tell you, it might seem that I waited until the last minute to do our clothing shopping (mid-August) but it was well contemplated before then.  Perhaps I even perseverated on it a bit.  And when we finally did get to go school supply shopping (had to wait for the list) and they were all out of Transformer take home folders, I actually looked in four more stores just to find one (perseverate much?) but to no avail. So there's clearly some amount of nervous energy going on; it's just not sadness.  Can I tell you how hilarious it was shopping with Liam for clothes?  When he insisted on buying the button up shirt with striped tie (not a clip-on mind you, it's a real tie with stripes and skulls), I just about fell in love with him ten times over.  Now I'm leaving Joshua out.  If I got sad when he turned 2 because he wasn't a baby anymore, than I might have missed out on his first actual real "I love you".  There's something special about having that amazing independent kid- acting totally bazonkers and then running up to you and giving you a kiss out of the blue and saying, "I love you". Babies don't do that- they utterly and completely depend on you and melt into you, which I do admit is terrific, but they can't say "I love you" yet. 
     I love looking at my kids baby photos in all of our photobooks (yeah, I'm too lazy to do scrapbooking, but with photobooks, who needs it anyway?).  I love looking at their cute faces and seeing how much they've changed.  I'm a sucker for hand-print crafts.  I love to see how little they were and now they're big.  A few years back in school I had my kids do a measurement project comparing their sizes at birth to current sizes and I do admit, I teared up a little looking at their projects.  But would I want to teach 20 babies instead of those 20 nine year olds?  Not a chance!    

     In my head as I look through our family photobooks, it's like I've got shelves full of future photobooks.  I see their soccer games (with Bill's luck, they'll want to play soccer instead of baseball); the school celebrations; the Kindergarten graduation; the concerts and more.  I see the photobook filled with Christmases and Halloweens and the trips to the farm for the next 10 years...  Hmmm... in 10 years I suppose they won't want to go the farm anymore and then they will probably get mad at me for taking them to the farm every year when they could be at the mall with their friends.  I've heard that teenagers don't cuddle up to their parents either and that they don't usually say "I love you".  Okay, so maybe for a few short years I might get a little teary eyed reminiscing about these days.  Maybe I just haven't gotten sad because I know Liam won't change too much today.  Maybe I'm not taking into account teenage hormones... So I guess if I'm going to ever cry over a milestone it will be the one where Liam tells me he wants to take the car and go school shopping on his own this year, or when Joshua tells me he doesn't want to give me a kiss good-bye in the car when I drop him off at school.  Yeah, that might make me cry.

Listening Ears

     I can only imagine how many times Liam's teachers will tell me, "He's not a good listener" or how many times he'll get a "U" for unsatisfactory on his report card for listening.  Yet judging him as a bad listener would simply be incorrect, a misunderstanding if you will.      See, what I've realized over the last 5 1/2 years is that many kids are perfectly good listeners.  They do, in fact, hear the words that are coming out of our mouths.  I have proof. The other day Liam was playing with a friend.  His friend was asking him a question and apparently had asked the same question more than once because Liam's response was: "I heard you the first time."  He said it with exactly the same tone and emphasis as we say it to him when he badgers us over and over again "Can I have a cookie? Why can't I have a cookie?  Will I ever be able to have a cookie?  When can I have a cookie? Can I have a cookie?" So Liam, a 5 year old, was apparently annoyed using "I heard you the first time" to fend off another round of questioning.  On a side note, it was actually annoying hearing, "I heard you the first time" and I think confusing for the other kid so maybe this might not be the best choice of words for Mommy and Daddy in the future when we're being bombarded with a line of questions at increasing volume.  It's not just Liam, apparently Joshua is also listening too because today in a public restroom he told me, "I mad at you, I want you leave room."  Ooops, I might have said that earlier this week when I needed a little space.  Kind of a worst mom moment there... requoted to remind me. 
     So- bad listeners?  No, not really.  They don't really heed what they hear, however.  Rather, they seem to have judged us so well that they know they have several minutes after a first warning to get the job done.  So when we say "Time for PJ's" really they take it upon themselves to do 6 more laps down the hallway. 
     Listening can be convenient, especially when it comes to education.  I'm pretty sure Liam's teachers will all think he's not listening, that is until he takes the test at the end of the unit and quotes her word-for-word in his extended response (that's a fancy teacher word for "essay").  At some point this summer I gave Liam a rudimentary explanation of sound waves.  Very basic, mind you.  I got an A- in the college course, Science of Sound but it doesn't matter, I don't recall a thing (except that sound travels in waves and something to do with... oh nevermind, I forgot it).  Imagine Bill's surprise in the car the other day when Liam asked about how radios worked and Liam actually grasped the explanation about how sound waves worked. It probably would have been sweet of me not to mention to Bill that Liam was actually recalling parts of our conversation... but instead I told Bill I had beat him to the punch and already explained sound waves to him.  Still, Liam really did remember and understand the concept.  He was listening and understanding so well that he generalized the concept and asked Bill, "Does stink have waves?"
     So what will I say if the teachers tell me that Liam isn't a good listener.  Hmmm... I will probably tell them that before they tell me again that he's a bad listener, they should ask him to repeat what they've said because I'm pretty sure he'll be able to tell them.  On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Liam will be saying things like: "I heard you the first time", "That was a bad choice" and "Mosquitoes bite me because I'm delicious" so I'm sure the teacher will hear for herself just how good a listener Liam really is... I'll have to be a little bit more careful about what I say...