Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Balls to the wall

There’s a moment in parenthood when your child crosses over from baby, to not baby. It happens really quick so if you’re catching up on Walking Dead and Homeland episodes you’re liable to miss it. That moment when being naked in their presence was once acceptable is no longer, acceptable.  You don’t realize it happened until a situation arises and you’re forced to get all up in their sacred places. 

Logan had been scratching at himself for a couple days. I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed to have a looksie. (Shivers) So I awkwardly make the request that he let me look at his wee-wee. His petrified expression assured me we had entered the I’m too old for you to see me naked stage.

Upon further review I determined he did in fact have chapped balls. Now, I’ve never had chapped balls in the literal way, but I have in the hypothetical way and can imagine the literal way is much more unpleasant. I’m just guessing.

Despite what my enemies might say about me, I’m not a ball expert and have no idea what to do with such things when they’re damaged. Fearful I might be arrested for researching toddler wiener help on Google, I opted with Vaseline. Applied that for a couple days but the itching persisted. Only now, there was a light pink rash spreading everywhere. Oh my balls  stars! 

After taking his junk to a professional to assess the damage he was diagnosed with a yeast infection. Apparently yeast is does not discriminate towards the female sex.  Who knew? I could have cured this myself with a little Monostat. Knowledge for the future. So, he’s prescribed some cream and we are instructed to apply this cream, twice a day for 14 days. With our hands. 

Each time I go to put this cream on his no-nos he screams, NOOOOOO! DON’T PUT IT ON MY WEE-WEE!!! Well excuse me son, where would you like me to put it? Your ear? Trust me, I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather rub cream on and my toddler’s junk ain’t one of em. This isn’t a day at Disney for me either. He puts up a valiant struggle; Limbs and other things go flying everywhere. He finally succumbs to the awkward realization that this is gonna happen. He assumes the wishbone position, and our decent into hell begins. We don’t make eye contact. He looks away, up and backwards like women do at gyno visits.  This cream must be completely rubbed in for it to really work. So basically I’m forced to do a Swedish massage on his stuff and it’s so, so terrible. 

Repeat all of the above twice a day. 

This time a few weeks ago after school I would ask, “How was your day buddy?” Now I’m asking, “How’s your wiener today?” 

This goes against nature. Nothing about this is right.

Friday, November 1, 2013

Halloween, this and that round up post.

Well thank the heavens that is over. That being the kid’s (separate) birthday parties, the Halloween parties, the classroom parties, the Halloween projects and Halloween itself. I’m really looking forward to the 7 and a ½ days that I don’t have to be prepping for holiday.  

Texas weather failed us this week and a lot of the Halloween plans we made were cancelled and/or rescheduled. We ended up going to a trunk or treat with some friends. All of those festival things are the same. Waiting in long lines to throw a ball into a box to get a piece of candy; trying to convince the kids that it’s fun and worth the wait. It usually isn’t. But the candy compensates for their disappointment. But not mine. Now-a-days 97% of kids are allergic to peanuts, peanut butter and everything else delicious.  So needless to say there was a severe shortage of Reeses, snickers, Butterfingers and Twix for me to steal from their buckets. Great! There goes my motivation to participate in Halloween. Logan redeemed the holiday for me by mispronouncing WOLVERENE with Nuva-Ring. The birth control ring. Look mom, it’s a Nuva Ring! Awesome. 

We are gearing up for a camping trip next weekend with some friends. My enthusiasm and gung-ho-ness about a family fun trip is transforming into overwhelming TO DO lists and I can sense the early onset of panic beginning to nestle its way into my mind. Its gonna be ok. Its gonna be fun. We won’t forget anything. This is the mantra that I repeat in my mind. It isn’t working yet but it should kick in any day now.
The latest news with the kids and life, in no particular order:

The kids have eased up on making my life a living hell at dinner time and started to eat what we cook. I think they sensed my give a damn with dinner function had busted. Either way, praise God!

Kylee was moved into an IP math class for Identified Potential. Clearly the math gene skips a generation as I need a calculator to see how much I’ll save on a 2 for $5 special.
Logan has finally stopped peeing on the seat. For the most part.
Isaac remembered to wear socks on with his tennis shoes. 

I can’t remember if I wrote about my car issues or not. But in summary, it broke, it cost $900 and 7 days to fix. The day I picked it up we rode home with the windows down then they wouldn’t roll back up. Are you firggin kidding me? I had to duck tape a trash bag to the window. A TRASH BAG YALL! My boss wrote “Getto” (misspelled on purpose) on the trash bag thus making it more humiliating to drive. I took it back to the dealership and displayed my give a damn is busted attitude. They fixed the windows. Ahh well they got them to roll up at least. The point is my paid off car is working again. Just don’t try to roll the windows down. 

Have a good weekend friends!