Monthly Musings, The Penis Edition: September 2014

Oh, September, you done me wrong...I'm so happy I don't have to see you again for 11 months. Right now, I'm doing a back handspring into a double "eff you," that's how glad I am to see you go. You were tough on me. I lost a family member, a new friend of mine lost her father, and one of The Bud's new classmates (also 3 years old) lost his Mommy. My own grief, and what I witnessed of the grief of others, brought me face to face with my own mortality. I wasn't ready for all that.You were a month of hard conversations, uncomfortable revelations, confusion, doubt, and the indisputable fact that life is just so hard, sometimes. A lot of the times. Maybe most of the times. I'm over you, you craptastic month.

I started 6 posts in September that I couldn't find the words to finish. The fog is lifting, so I'm hopeful that as I revisit each one, I'll be able to work through what my heart wants to say and that there will be something worth sharing with you all in this shiny, new month of October. The following post from the September archives has no depth or eternal value whatsoever, which is why I'm posting it, first. Enjoy!
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Disclosure: This post is almost entirely about penises or people who have them. If you are in any way squeamish about the word penis or discussions thereof, do not read any further. If, out of morbid curiosity, you decide to ignore your better judgement and continue reading, only to find yourself disgusted, repulsed, shocked, and dismayed, remember that I did warn you. You have only yourself to blame for whatever sleep you lose after this moment. Xoxoxo!

 

• Being a mama to a little boy, I've come to terms with a general penis-fixation in my household. It started with his circumscision and went straight to the gutter from there. We've been either at war with or acting in the direct interest of our son's special purpose since the moment of his birth, when he peed all over the surgical staff in the delivery room. We can't escape it. I've accepted it. He's got us beat. #outnumbered #wheninRome

 

• The other week, The Bud was playing while wearing only undies, and his penis slipped out of the slit in his shorts. He wouldn't stop talking about it. He demanded that we each look and acknowledge (with as much dignity as we could muster) that yes, it was sticking out, yes, it was "really tall," and YES, the appropriate thing was to push it back into his shorts and commence playing with trains. #dontphasemenone

 

• Dear God: can we talk about penises and potty training for a sec? Not to criticize Your design or anything, but it seems like having one's favorite minor appendage waving at half mast while you're trying to master pooping in the potty is an unnecessary distraction. My kid certainly can't handle it. Would it be feasible to have their members drop after they've been trained? No need to decide right now. Lemme know later what you think...

 

• I just survived a mostly solo sick kid weekend when W was working. It was brutal, and culminated in a Sunday night trip to the grocery store that I most emphatically did NOT want to take. When I dragged my downtrodden body home, I was rubbernecked and waved at by two college guys in an F150. That helped. #donthate #istillgotit

 

• In the checkout line at the grocery store, my checker accidentally rang up a couple items on my bill that belonged to the guy behind me. I noticed one of them was Pedialyte popsicles. In a show of sick-kid solidarity, I half-jokingly offered to pay for them anyway. Poor guy, he was probably as frazzled as I was...Then he informed me that he did not, in fact, have a sick kid at home. He ate them all the time, he said. "They're great for hangovers." #nevermind #youreonyourownskipper

 

• Was it was Benjamin Franklin who said, "Every father hopes his son grows up to have a bigger penis than his own?" #onlythebestforjunior #thatsjustgoodparenting