Straight out of the Psycho shower scene- I need some backup

There are things that non-parents would look at that we parents do that might seem…. odd. Perhaps even bordering crazy. To us- well, you have to make adjustments to just about everything, even if it doesn’t even make sense to you and certainly wouldn’t make sense to anyone else who didn’t have to do it.

No one ever said having to taste baby food as an adult was pleasant (well, unless it’s bananas or sweet potatoes. Nom.)- but if it will get food into a stubborn ass child’s mouth and down the hatch- it has to be done. NO ONE ever set you up for physically having to help your kid take a crap… but if their ass is congested and they are screaming in pain- you will grab a shit; yes you will. You may hesitate, you may dry heave, you may NEVER tell ANYONE- but you will do it.

There’s something weird going on with my hair lately. By weird I really mean hateful and bitchy. Or maybe I’m just getting old and it’s showing through my hair. Basically, my hair is a bitch. It’s dry, but in a day it’s oily. It used to be that I could go a couple of days without washing, no problem (and that’s good for me, being that I have extremely dyed hair and the less washing I do, the better for the color)- but now it’s one day in and I look like I’ve been dipping my roots in crisco to protect it from the sun or some shit.
It’s nasty, y’all. It’s nasty and it makes me want to scrub my head with comet or something, ’cause I feel like comet is one of those things that will get the shit off of everything. It also might take off skin, but whatevs- you get my point.

This weird hair greasy nasty thing really went to a whole other level the night my Dad took the boys out for a special birthday dinner. We ended up staying out so late that we didn’t have time to bathe them. Which means I didn’t have time to bathe, since I go right before them. I was already feeling like a grimy bish, but now I was going to go yet ANOTHER full day without a shower… and I’d already used dry shampoo that morning. You can’t double-dry shampoo! I think that opens some kind of grease filled black hole from which there is no return!

It was at that moment that I decided to do something different. Well, different to me- but not to other moms. It’s one of those things I mentioned above that seems weird, but is not weird to those of us with crotch-weasels roaming the hallways of our homes. Lots of mamas shower during the day, with their little ones there with them. Some put the kid in the bathroom with a toy, or… I mean, shit, I guess they just trust the wee one not to fuck shit up. MAMA NEEDS TO WASH HER ASS, DAMNIT! Don’t judge. I’m not judging. You do what you gotta do to feel fresh. Feeling sour is not pleasant.

On any normal weekday, I’d only have Parker to worry about. When Parker is alone, I do not worry. ALAS, on my sourest of sour days with hair glistening like a greased up ass on the beach- Holden was home sick. And Holden being home sick meant he was extra a-holey, and Parker was being extra a-holey back to him, and combined they were the ultimate a-hole twins. Trying to keep them apart in order to not spread the infection like a little outbreak monkey was nearly impossible WHILE I was watching them and constantly telling them to back the hell off- trying to keep them apart while I wasn’t watching? Ugh. Probably not, but it had to be done. IT HAD TO BE!

Ah yes, this is the part where you laugh at my naivete. Children who have gone years always having their mother helicopter over them- suddenly disappearing into the shower where she can’t easily jump the fuck out and chase them with a wire hanger for being destruct-o-bots?
“Do you think you two could play nicely while Mommy takes a shower?”

Honestly, I shouldn’t have even alerted them to my absence. Rookie mistake.

This is what went down during my very first shower with kids home and no other adult present:

Since my ear had a baby, and then had its tampon removed, I have to be careful not to let it get impregnated by the shower again- so I always use protection. This comes in the form of a cotton ball or wax plug to the ear. Being that this was already an unusual situation, I forgot the fucking ear condom. This meant that I was already soaking wet and had to get out of the shower to get a cotton ball, hope not to get it wet, before inserting into the ear that I was trying not to get wet.
Yes, you guessed it- fail.

Soon after I hear a loud crash, followed by yelling. I shout out of the shower.. y’know.. ’cause kids totally answer when they’re fucking shit up as to what they’re doing. And I hear nothing. Lovely.

Then more thumping. It’s Holden coming up and tattling that Parker won’t share, and then complaining that I wouldn’t tell him to share. Um. Sorry kid, I’m naked. Your brother sharing his toy with you is the least of my concerns. He was also pissed that I couldn’t hear his snarky mumbling from outside the bathroom door because no matter how many times I told him to COME IN, he would not.

All of this yelling caused water to soak my ear condom through. This meant I once again had to take my soaking wet ass out of the shower to put more cotton in my ear and drenching the entire bathroom. Again. The husband is never pleased when he steps on a wet bathroom rug. This is when I remind him that socks suck and it’s his fault for wearing them.

Next to interrupt? Parker. Only he wasn’t tattling, he was coming up the stairs because he has to poo, and then proceeding to strip but ass naked from the waist down. From that point, the wee one cannot lift his tiny hiney up to perch himself in a hovering position on the pot- so once again I have to get out, soaking the bathroom for a third time.
Imagine how relaxing a nice hot shower is with a toddler grunting a giant shit out on the pot next to you. I’m imagining that you didn’t want to imagine that but now you can’t help yourself- and I bet your deduction is the same- that’s nasty.
He finishes his bowel release before I finish showering- but I was almost done so I asked him to wait for me to finish so I could wipe his stinky ass. He agrees. I take longer than expected to rinse- so I sing a song about wiping his butt to keep him occupied. Yes. A butt-wiping song. No, I’m not making this up. I also don’t remember how it went. No, I will not make up another.
I think the kid must have sat on that pot for a good 4 minutes after his poo had completed before I was finally done so that I could get out and wipe his ass. Yes, still soaked. Yes, I slipped on the soak that was already there. No, I didn’t bust my ass- but it would have been funny.

Parker then insisted upon flushing the toilet, and while he did, he began singing a song to the poo as it went down. What have I done?
Then he ran away naked.

Oh, also- they wrecked the living room. The only one who behaved was the damn dog.

I don’t think I’ll be showering again unless Thomas is home. Or the children are not…. I mean, we have to be safe here- my ear nearly got knocked up again.

Posted on September 20, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 7 Comments
Holdin' Holden

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