Let’s get one fact out of the way from the get-go: I am a procrastinator. Some might even call me QUEEN of procrastination. If there’s something I need to get done? I will wait until the very last second, pound my way through it whilst tearing out my hair (and turning the remaining hairs gray) and whining about it the entire time.
What? At least I accept my nature!
So, yes- I did just get Holden’s school registration paperwork. Yes, he does start next month. Yes, I DO still have to get the asinine amount of shit they handed me filled out by his pediatrician and then take it BACK to the school AND get shit notarized.
And yes, I will likely put a lot of that off even further. Why? I don’t really even know. I’m not in denial about my wittle-beeebeeee leaving me and going off to school (another blog put that into perspective for me). It’s just who I am. I work well under pressure… or something.
But do you know what I have been doing? THINKING. Always thinking.
Once I started to fill out the forms after dinner last night, my mind started to churn about Holden’s school days. Not the other students (whom i’m sure he will be an a-hole to) or the teachers (who i’m sure he will back-sass) or his competency level (because he’s a smart little shit and unfortunately knows he is smart, which makes him the shit he is)- but weird thoughts; do I have any other kind?
What has really been taking up the largest space in my brain when it comes to being ditched for kindergarten is the bathroom.
Yes, I said the bathroom. The public bathroom, to be more specific; and to be more specific than that- the public bathroom in the elementary school and potty breaks.
I’ll give my kid credit- he’s been shitting and pissing into the pot and not missing for years now. He, of course, has his rare accidents- but he’s very good about stopping what he’s doing and taking a wazz.
Regardless of all of his potty-prowess… when he pees, he drops trou. We’re talking, butt ass naked, pants and underwear to the floor, pelvis forward, shiny hiney out for everyone to see kind of peein’. It’s his style, I guess? And he seems to have absolutely no problem with it no matter how many times i’ve told him, in public, in a disgusting restroom with spackles of who the fuck knows what all over the floor, NOT to do it. It’s gross! You don’t NEED to pull your pants all the way down. You don’t NEED to be naked from the waist down to go to the bathroom (I know one adult like this… it’s fucking weird). It’s more work than it’s worth!
Is this normal?? Do all little boys do this? Is he going to be the only weirdo with his pimply-ass hanging out?
I mean, elementary school bathrooms are odd enough with their short-ass stalls that I imagine parents have to use during meetings or scoldings or whatever; with the tiny little toilets that you feel like you MIGHT fall over trying to squat down on their level, and you stand up and suddenly you can see into every single other stall because they’re so short that they’re only at boob level. Talk about awkward.
What about boys? I’m not a boy. I know nothing about urinals, and I REALLY don’t have any interest in learning about urinal cakes *gag*. It took me months to learn how to help Holden aim (yeah… not something I ever imagined doing) and even then I still got the ickies every time a bathroom assist was necessary. I am out of the penis-bathroom-etiquette loop, and Thomas? Shit. As if he remembers that far back. He doesn’t even remember what we had for dinner last week without some serious mind-jogging, let alone his 5 year old bathroom habits 23 years ago.
What he DOES remember is that elementary schools, instead of having the off-the-floor single urinals with the privacy walls in between, they have floor to ceiling urinals.
|DEAR GOD NO|
Pause with me for a moment. Ew.
PLEASE let that have changed in 23 years… because… barf.
Is Holden just gonna be butt ass naked from the waist down, doodle hangin’ in the wind, no privacy to shield other innocent eyes, and that is the norm? Or is it not normal at ALL and I need to seriously retrain this kid how to only bring out the necessary players while going #1?
Pause with me again for a moment. Ew.
Seriously. I am worried about this bathroom business, y’all. WORRIED. Of all the things to be worried about, i’m worried about the boys bathroom. This… is my life.
Really though- boys bathrooms make no sense to me. I’m glad they make no sense to me; I can’t imagine peeing in front of another lady without a wall between us to protect my bits from bein’ all public and viewable; I had enough of that while giving birth.
And come on now- wiping with a crowd? No fucking thank you! STALLS!!! Stalls are my friends.
I know that I never ever say this- what with the hormones and boob aches, mood swings, stretchmarks, fear of cameltoe and frumpy horse butt, cramps and exploding uteri…but I am so glad i’m a girl.
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