Up the nose? No problem.
Picture it: Easter Dinner. The table is set, the food is still warm(ish). And the guests are seated. I’ve just sat down myself and as I begin to enjoy the food, I reach over to my 6 year old son whom I’ll refer to as Buddy. I give him a little rub on his back. He’s at the “kids section” which is our kitchen island. He has been playing with Legos from the Easter Bunny all day, even at the table with his meal. He slowly turns around with a panicked look on his face.
Without even asking, I knew. “Buddy, did you stick a Lego up your nose again?” He nodded. So I said, “Well you know what we need to do.” Without alerting anyone, I grabbed his arm, took him into his bedroom, shut the door and blew into his mouth while blocking the other nostril. I was immediately hit in the face with the Lego, and snot. “Thanks mommy, I’m sorry, I forgot.” We went back to the table and our guests were none the wiser. Happy Easter, right?!
This sort of thing plays over again and again with my little guy. I realized that having a son, at least my son, is like pledging a fraternity that I never wanted to pledge! Legos in the nose, stitches on the tongue, concussions, licking a stamp pad and vomiting everywhere. The list goes on.
One day this fall, I was on the phone with my dad and Buddy was home sick. He was going to the bathroom and the door was closed. He came out and went into his room and I went into the bathroom to wash my hands while still on the phone. It was like a horror movie. Apparently he was “doing an experiment” which involved touching his poop! He tried to wash it off of his hands but it was EVERYWHERE. All over the sink and toilet; the floor, etc… He obviously tried to “clean up” the evidence but it was impossible. It was all over him as well. I lost my temper and threw him in the tub while I commenced the most disgusting clean up job ever while 8 months pregnant with pneumonia. Sigh.
Now I have to remind him every time he poops not to touch it. And he only listens about half the time! If he’s not making poor hygiene choices, he’s always one second away from going to the emergency room. Whether it’s climbing up high places and jumping off or swinging from furniture, he’s always so close to serious injury that I’m sure I’ve lost several years of my own life due to being in a permanent state of fear. Is it gender based, personality based or both?
Now is this boy stuff? Maybe? I don’t know, he’s my only boy. My older daughter, Peanut, has also made questionable decisions (pencil lead in both ears because she was “bored during writing” in school), but is overall more careful and less prone to injury. Maybe it’s Buddy’s sensory processing issues combined with attention deficit disorder? Or maybe it’s just his curious personality? My guess is that it’s both.
Mommy, I love you!
Despite the constant feeling of waiting for the next crisis/gross event, Buddy tells me he loves me about 300 times a day. And even when I discipline him, I can do no wrong. Having a son is a self-esteem boost, even if I’m always dealing with some mess. He is also super cute which really helps me stomach the challenging and unpredictable day to day experience of parenting this boy.