The greatest joy of life is to become a parent. The joy of having more than one child is the jealousy and rivalry. Oh how much I love watching them fight ALL THE TIME. My son is very affectionate and playful. My daughter is Haphephobic and very vocal. This mean there is a constant background shriek in my house. Son tries to play with daughter by poking her side (even though he knows she will scream at the top of her little lungs) and daughter then screeches like she is being stabbed (even though screaming never seems to help the situation, at all) The best luck I’ve ever had solving this is duct taping them. Her on the mouth and him around both hands together. When they asked me how long they had to leave the tape on I smiled evilly and told them “As long as it takes to get off. I can put duct tape on you but it’s illegal for me to remove it because of the skin damage. Have a great afternoon!”
And it was!! I read a book and listened to them giggle as they helped each other. Helped! It worked out better than the “hugging shirt” but it wasn’t a long term fix. They learned the tricks for removing duct tape quickly. Really, it was a parenting win because I know they now have a chance of escaping if ever kidnapped. Deep down that was my plan all along ………we will go with that.
I try to head up potential issues before they become big issues. Soooooo when I heard disappointment that my son was in my blog I figured I should share something embarrassing and traumatic about her as well. Just to be a fair parent. I’d hate for her to feel left out. This next one is more embarrassing for her and traumatic for me. Hopefully, it does teach you to make sure young kids have good vocabulary.
When my sweet little blonde toddler wanted to go burn off some energy at the park I was more than obliging. Fresh air, sunshine, anonymity…. I could totally pretend that feisty 3 year old that is beating up grade schoolers didn’t belong to me. *sips drink and silently makes bets on how long before the poor boy cries* She ran off and did her thing, I sat with a book where I could keep an eye on her craziness. Towards the end of the afternoon I realized I hadn’t seen her in a little while. I wasn’t too panicked since I knew there was no way to successfully kidnap her. It took me maybe 30 seconds of looking to find her playing with a little boy under the slide. The very guilty looks I got from both on them stopped me in my tracks. I did the instinctive quick scan of the area. Blood? Nope. Bruises? None. Animal sacrifices? Nata. Fire? No. Ok, good. But why the faces……? I stayed pretty close to watch them. It only made me more suspicious since they would hide under the slide together, giggle, pop a head out to look at me, go back to giggling.
Yeaaaaaaah……. That’s about enough of that. Time to say good bye honey. (This is where I actually got lucky. She never threw fits leaving the park. She didn’t scream over not getting toys at the stores. Lesson here is don’t lie to your kids. It will totally be worth it. Trust me. ) We made our way to the car skipping and singing. I got her buckled in and didn’t even have time to come up with a plan of approach about the weirdness of the slide. (she’s weird all the time but this was suspicious weird AND involved a boy) because as I put the car in reverse she yells at me
“MOMMY! Look at my Hoo-Hoo!”
*choke on my gum*
“What? What did you just say?”
“My Hoo-Hoo! Look at it! That boy said it is pretty!”
*pretty sure I can see my pulse right now*
“Huney. I don’t think I’m understanding what you are saying. Why would that boy say it’s pretty?”
“Because I was letting him pet it”
“When we were playing house under the slide. I was the mommy and he was the daddy and he was using both hands to pet my Hoo-Hoo”
*goes blind from the aneurism that just happened*
I pulled the car over because this conversation was no longer safe to have in the rearview mirror. I’m counting. I’m rubbing my thumbs on my ears. Anything to stay calm right now. I turn around in my seat to ask her my next question and I’m greeted with a huge smile and her holding her arms like she is holding a baby. She happily kicks her feet and says
“Look Mommy! I have a whole arm full of Hoo-Hoo’s!”
“What is a Hoo-Hoo- to you?”
“You are so silly Mommy! You know what a Hoo-Hoo is!”
“I know I know what a Hoo-Hoo is Baby, but I want to know what a Hoo-Hoo is to you.“
“You know! Those fat little birds that go ‘Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!’ duh!”
“That’s exactly what I thought one was. But, so you know, the rest of the world calls them ‘Owls’ I don’t want people to think you aren’t smart”
“I’m very smart”
“Yes you are Baby”
Since then everyone has thought I love owls because I get so excited when I see them. I will just let people keep thinking that. I give all the presents to my baby girl that FRICKEN LOVES OWLS! It’s way easier to say “thanks” than explain to people why my eye twitches anytime I hear a slang term for vagina. Call it what it is!!! (unless your beautiful baby had explosive diarrhea and it has filled her girl parts, then you can call it a dirty snoochie. Your daughters vagina should never be thought of full of poo.) No cutesy names to get rid of embarrassment. Make that crap so awkward that it isn’t awkward anymore. It is for the best.
Now please take the time to make a list of the lessons you have learned today, and also write down how you can apply them to your life.
I have a prize for the person that gives me that best answer by next blog!!!
P.s. Haphephobic is freaking out about being touched. You’re welcome.
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