Mother's talk

As anyone who's ever had a kid (and anyone who's ever been a kid) knows, a parent has to wear several hats at once, often more than one on any given day.

Cook, chauffeur, dishwasher, nurse, cheerleader, coach, hairstylist, psychotherapist, massage therapist, personal shopper... the list goes on.

I've got a bit of hathead today.

It's been a bit of a rough week in this household.

The boy got hit with a 24 hour stomach bug. He doesn't get sick too often, we are lucky that way. But he'd also managed to clang his head with the steel garage door on his way in an hour before bedtime. Great timing. So I was concerned that his nausea may have been associated with a concussion. Do we keep him awake? Do we let him sleep?

In the end, I decided to sleep next to him on the sleeping bag (oh, boy, there go the bones). He likened it to a sleepover. He seemed fine, but was having bad dreams and then a very verbal stomach. Thank goodness he doesn't share his Mom's emetophobia. He managed to get whatever it was out of his system, every 3 hours. He was back on his feet, and after a day resting, all is well again.

Yesterday's saga was not as fun. I don't know if I've shared this, but my daughter HATES anything fruits and vegetables and fibre related. Yes, this is a concern. She's already had one really bad bout of constipation and we had to take her to her pediatrician for that. (I'm sure she's gonna love me for this story one day.)

For this particular episode, I was a little more prepared. The poor thing was sitting on the toilet, her face so red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me it hurt and she wanted it OUT! "Is it going to be stuck forever?"

It was breaking my heart.

I'll spare you the details, but fixing it involved suppositories.

Yes, a parent's job is never done. Jill-of-all-trades, master of none.

So down she sat again, a bit happier knowing that Mommy had done something and that she would be productive at some point. With her princess book on her lap, she smiled.

"You're like a doctor! I love you mommy!"

"I love you too monkey."

"I love you because you make my poo come out and go away"

So apparently I am a master of one.

You can write "shit disturber" on my next hat.

Papa's got a brand new 'poo bag'

So this is how I know that my blog is now part of the family.

The boy and girlie's friends stopped by (with their Dad) while walking their dog last night. Since it was dinner time, we invited them to stay. And to be honest it was long overdue, as these friends are so wonderful, they always invite us over for dinner whenever the man's away.

After dinner, since there was school the next day, the Dad hustled his kids back into their coats, got the dog and off they went for their walk back home.

And then we get a message on our phone while getting the kids ready for bed ..."Uh, sorry I just realized that we left the poo bag on your front porch. It was dark and I totally forgot. Apologies, you can just throw it into your green cycle bin."

And then another e:mail about it shortly after, just in case.

No big deal.

This morning, we open up the door to get the paper and there it was, right next to the paper. In the same type of blue plastic bag. "There's the poo-bag!" I exclaimed.

For some reason husband thought that was insanely hilarious.

And this evening, my husband said to me, "You should have taken a picture of that, what an awesome bloggable moment!"

And the boy, "Mom, that would have been great to write about "THE POO BAG" on your blog!".

And so it's done. No picture though.

What is it about boys and poo anyway?

Gotta admit, though, some poo stories are priceless...