It’s exciting to hear Parker start to use more words in his daily life lately. I can’t tell you how exhausting it is having him just grunt and point at everything and have to play a guessing game with what it is he’s trying to say, or what it is that he wants, and ALWAYS being wrong. Getting him to talk is something we have worked towards for such a long time- but has come with unexpected consequences.
Out of his 10 word vocabulary, one of his newest, and now most favorite things to say is “doodoo.” That word has been of great help as far as him informing me that he needs to go instead of leaving a trail of shit on the floor for me to clean up because he didn’t know how to vocalize to me that the train was coming and there was no way to stop it like before.
That word, in itself, is not embarrassing. What could be cuter than a 2 year old exclaiming “doodoo!” like it’s the most exciting thing on the planet? Especially with Parker’s funny little voice- and I don’t mean in a Forrest Gump “you talk funny” kind of way- but just the sound of his voice is so silly that every real word that comes out of him is absolutely adorable.
If you’ve been reading the blog for a while- you will not that my stomach is what I consider “not right.” Occasionally it just gets incredibly pissed off and decides, on a whim, to force me to evacuate the contents of my stomach. And I don’t mean from my mouth. There’s no rhyme or reason for it, and no predicting when it’s going to happen, because it never acts the same way twice to certain foods and situations.
Today, this morning? My stomach woke up on the wrong side of the bed and decided to be a horrid bitch to me following breakfast (a bowl of Special K, mind you).
The word “doodoo” coming out of Parker’s mouth took a turn for the humiliating after I told him that “mommy’s tummy doesn’t feel good” and made a mad dash to the bathroom after that oh-so familiar GOTTA GO CAN’T HOLD IT ANYMORE OR I’LL CRAP MY PANTS feeling swept over me- and he began chasing me around the house, two steps behind me, yelling “DOODOO! DOODOO!”
Yes, THAT, my friends, is embarrassment due to kids at its finest.
Can you imagine if we’d been in public? I may have died of humiliation in a pool of my own fecal matter. What a way to go!
Perhaps letting Thomas break my “Bloomin’ Onion” cherry last night was not the wisest of ideas. Not a single part of my body agreed with that thing, especially not the poor sting ring it caused.
And DAMNIT, I just realized I ate the leftovers of it tonight. Looks like it’s another doodoo chase for me tomorrow.
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