GTT-Olympic Gold

I recently stumbled across a really great blogsite that offers a topic each Thursday and links to each blogger's post on said topic. I am really excited to participate since coming up with something to write about has proven difficult for me.



The site is Girl Talk Thursday, and this week's topic: If you could create an Olympic competition that you were sure to take home the gold medal in, what would it be?

I have read the other bloggers' posts, and think I might have some steep competition if procrastination were an event. I am sure I would place though, because, hey, it is now Friday night and they have already posted their responses. Heh.

So, let's see...what else could I whoop everyone else's pants in? I think it would have to be in the TMI (women) event. I am certain there are men out there that are way better at this, but I could so win if the competition was female only.

I think bodily functions (or dysfunctions) are almost always hilarious. I will talk about them in the most inappropriate settings without filter. Church fellowship dinner, perhaps? Actually, I think somewhere in my brain there is a filter, it is just severely damaged. I can feel something zapping warnings 'don't say that', 'people are eating', 'that's just gross'. Nevertheless, the words seem to just tumble out of my mouth.

This is why I have always believed I was destined to have boys. I honestly wouldn't know how to raise a girl 'properly'. I could probably read about it and figure it out as I went along, but it certainly wouldn't come naturally. I don't like dolls. I can't stand the color pink. I don't even know how to make a braid. (The fact that one of my boys thinks he IS a girl and told me just yesterday that he wants to grow up to 'be a lady' is topic for another day, however.)

I fart a lot. A LOT, a lot. I asked my hubby last week what he would give me if he could get me anything at all for Valentine's Day. His answer? "A can of beans and an empty room to fart in." I shit you not, that is what he said. He knows me well...that probably WOULD be a great gift for me. I fart, I laugh, laughing makes me fart, the cycle repeats, and it is such a good time! Well, it is for me at least. He continues to allow almost all of his bodily functions occur behind closed doors. Spoiled sport.

My oldest son was enrolled in a pre-K program when he was 3 years old. On the first day of school, his teacher found it necessary to leave the classroom to call me about his 'potty mouth'. These were her exact words:

"Your son seems to have a potty mouth. He said 'F...A-R-T."

Two thoughts went through my head. The first, 'Thank God it was THAT 'F-word'! The other: 'So WHAT?!?!' Luckily, my filter seemed to be (somewhat) working that day, as I was able to choke out through my suppressed giggles, "OK. I will talk to him when he gets home." When I picked him up, I had to explain to him that we needed to keep those words inside our house because not everyone finds them funny.

I will limit myself to one more piece of anecdotal evidence, because I could go on about this stuff all night and day.

Last month, a friend was describing her experience on the Master Cleanse Diet. I wasn't especially intrigued until she mentioned 'the poop'. Apparently, you could Google search this diet and people have taken photos of their bowel movements, which, OMG, ratemypoo.com doesn't even hold a candle to. That site is like child's play compared to the beauties that this diet expels. I was absolutely OBSESSED over this thing for a week. I really wanted to try the Master Cleanse and see what MY poop would look like. Hubby, however, was very much against it, and besides, I like my food way too much and have zero willpower.

Which reminds me...if 'lack of willpower' were an Olympic event, I would probably win that one, too.

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So what event would you be sure to win the gold medal in? Add a comment and tell me!

Words You *Thought* Were Safe To Teach Your Kids

A few months ago, my 3yo Baby Bee was waking up in the middle of the night SCREAMING that his butt was itchy. This happened two days in a row, so I did what any good mother would do-I consulted Dr. Google. I quickly learned that my BB was most likely suffering from pinworms, which are very common in the younger set. Thank you, Dr. Google, for saving me a $30 copay and the madness of sitting in a pediatrician's office during "sick visits" with little sneezing, hacking, germ-spreading children.

Pinworms are treated either by prescription (you know, if you actually PAY to see a doctor) or an over-the-counter medication called Pin-X. I figured I would just pick some up in the grocery store, since I was already planning a trip there for the day. I couldn't find any in the OTC medicine aisle, so I asked the pharmacist if he had any behind the counter. Either this pharmacist did not have any kids of his own, or he was just an asshat, because as soon as the word "pinworms" escaped my lips, he leaped backward and cringed. Holy hell, Mr. Pharmacist! Isn't part of your JOB not to be all judgmental and crap? Remind me not to have my candida prescriptions filled there. Or maybe it would be fun to give him some more shivers up his spine. *Note to self: be sure to shake his hand when I pick up the aforementioned medication.

So I found the Pin-X at CVS the same day. I dosed the entire family because that is what Dr. Google told me to do. As I was handing out the medicine, I explained to the kids that BB had pinworms and this medicine would kill the worms so he could feel better. OK, so I have no filter and may or may not have gone into exactly what pinworms are and how they come out of your butt when you are sleeping to lay their eggs. What can I say? BB and BBB were not freaked out and were actually quite intrigued with the whole matter. I did stop short of showing them images of pinworms on the Internet though, because hey, even I have limits. The boys were so excited about the worms living in BB's butt that they wanted to make sure they knew exactly how to say them and commit their name to memory.

"Pen-worms"

"No, PINworms."

"pinnn worms."

"Yes, exactly."

"Pinworms, pinworms, pinworms in your butt!"

It was as if I just told them Monster Jam was coming to town and we had front row VIP seats.

The itching stopped practically overnight, and so, I thought, did the memory of the curious little parasite "pinworms". Oh, how wrong I was.

Now anytime there is a slightly itchy feeling on the backside area of either of my children, they are sure to announce to anyone within shouting distance, ""Pinworms, pinworms, there's pinworms in my butt!"

Perhaps going with the simple line, "Here, take this medicine. It will make you feel better," was the better option in this situation. Oh well.