When you become a mother all humility pretty much
goes out the window. It starts when you’re in labor and from what I can tell it
continues until your kids move out of your house. I no longer get privacy when
I pee, shower or change. I was considering bolting the door closed but I have
the sneaky suspicion that they will find an open window or a way to propel in
from the roof. Kids are good at finding you. They really should work for the FBI.
My kids are getting older so we have actually
started to lay some ground rules about not walking in on mommy in her granny
panties. I mean good grief I don’t need an entire preschool class getting a
full on description of my underwear during circle time. I still have nightmares
about the time my oldest walked in on me peeing before preschool. He asked why
my penis looked funny to which I replied, “Honey mommy doesn’t have a penis. I
have a vagina. Now can you please get out so I can finish and we can go?” I
remember thinking I handled it perfectly. Crisis averted. Therapy avoided. Then
we walked into preschool and he told all the moms in the lobby that his mommy
has a penis on the inside. “It’s so weird. You can’t even see it.” He’s almost
eight now and I know he doesn’t remember this but I’m fairly certain there are
a few mothers from that class that still talk about me at their book club while
clutching their pearls.
My oldest is pretty good about boundaries and
privacy. I think it is because he is suddenly realizing he too would like some
privacy while using the toilet. I’m glad to have him on board. My four year old
on the other hand still doesn’t get it. He would gladly greet the mailman in
his underwear. He still thinks it’s ok to pee in the backyard even if we have
company. I thank potty training during the summer months for that one. Now when
I tell him it’s unacceptable I’m often met with, “But the dog does it.” It’s
hard to argue with a four year old. Their thoughts make complete and perfect
sense to them and trying to argue with them is like banging your head into a
brick wall over and over and expecting it to collapse. The wall will still be
standing but you will wind up with a massive headache.
I can tell you any advances I was making with
teaching my four year old about boundaries were thrown out the window this
morning. Today I had to do something that I have never had to do. I had to
bring him with me for my annual exam at the gynecologist. Yes. That’s right. He
had to come to the lady doctor with me. First off let me just say that in our
house we have always referred to body parts by their real names. Despite the fact that the word vagina has been said in our home, the four year old still
thinks it’s called a China. I know this because the other day on the way to
school he asked me if all girls have a China. I told him yes and he then
proceeded to name every single girl and woman we have ever met in our entire
lives and repeat, “Fill in 80 names here has a China. We hit every traffic light that day because of
course we would.
This morning I carefully explained to him that he
was going to have to come with me to the doctor. Ladies you all know how hard it is to get an
appointment with the OBGYN especially if you see a group and you want someone
specific, so cancelling was just out of the question. I told him he could pick
a special snack to have afterwards if he was good. I told him he could bring
his iPad. I have never hoped and prayed more that my child would stare at a
screen than I did this morning. I told him it would be quick. He agreed to all
the bribes and we were on our way. When we arrived there was what seemed like
an unusually high amount of pregnant women in the waiting area. Now I know that
this is where pregnant women go to get checked, but I’m telling you it seemed
like every other chair had a pregnant woman sitting in it. The four year old
turned to me and with a lower than normal voice (thank you Jesus) said “Geez
mommy why do so many ladies here have babies in their bellies? Is this where
you come to get one put in? Are you having a baby put in today?”
“Mrs. Lizza can I have you fill out an updated
information sheet for me.”
Again thank you Jesus.
Before I knew it I was being called in for my exam.
This is where it gets dicey.
The nurse weighed me (can I at least take my damn
shoes off) and then she asked me to give her a urine sample.
4yo: “What’s
urine?” Volume level: 400
Me: “It’s pee
honey. Be quiet and follow me.”
4yo: “Ewwww.
You have to give her your pee???” Volume
level: 850
Me: “Yes. Come
into the bathroom and close the door.”
4yo: “How are
you going to give her your pee? In your hands?”
Me: “No. In a
cup.”
4yo: “A
CUP??? You mean that thing. It’s so big. Do you have to fill the whole thing
with your pee?” Volume level: 1,105.
Me: “Honey, please. I can’t pee with you being so
loud.”
4yo: “Why not? Is your pee scared of my voice? Because
that would be weird.” Volume level: 2,200.
I then proceeded to hand my bucket of fearful pee to
the nurse and walk into the exam room.
4yo: *Pointing to foot stirrups* “What on earth are
those things?” Volume level: I’m sweating.
The nurse handed me my paper doily to keep me warm
(laughable) while wearing my open in the front gown. I didn’t need the paper
doily today though because I was sweating from the fear of the future therapy
bill for both me and my son. All I kept thinking was oh my God we are going to have to remortgage the house for the therapy
bills. We might have to move. Circle time. Oh for the love he has circle time tomorrow.
The nurse then proceeded to ask me what my husband
and I were using for birth control and all I could think was THIS. We are using
this very day as our birth control. It will work for now and all of eternity.
She looked at me and asked if I wanted to speak in code. In code? Is there some
secret code language for mothers who have to bring their child with them to
this appointment that I don’t know about? Could someone have handed me a
pamphlet in the waiting room? I don’t know code. Instead I proceeded to mouth
my answers and much to my delight she understood me. God bless her.
She told me the doctor would be in shortly and told
my son he could sit in the chair against the wall facing the stirrups. Now I
was really sweating. I was considering high tailing it out of there because I
was picturing him going into school and me getting phone call after phone call
from every mother in the class. As I put the gown on, my four year old was
laughing. I looked at him and said,“OK honey. It’s not funny. I have to wear this.”
4yo: “What is it? It has a big hole in the entire
thing. It doesn’t even make sense. You won’t let me wear those jeans to school
anymore that have a hole in the knee.”
Just as I was about to tell him he could wear them
to school every day for the rest of the year, the doctor walked in. She talked
to him for a little and then to me. She stood up and looked at me and said OK
well what are we going to do with him? Hmm.
“Hey buddy, come with me I bet the nurses have some
work you could do at the nurses’ station.”
4yo: “YES!! Awesome!”
Me: “YES!! SO Awesome.”
Her: “Yeah I don’t need to be the reason he needs
therapy.” *Wink*
It was like she was in my brain. Oh thank you Jesus.
My four year old does not have to witness my annual China exam.
She came back in and we laughed and laughed about
being mothers, having boys and dealing with things our husbands simply could
never understand. As I walked out my son was sitting with the nurses sorting
through stickers for all the kids who come in with their mommies. I told him it
was time to go and he stood up with a smile. The woman in front of me was
expecting and she was making an appointment for her next ultrasound.
Volume Level 200,000: “So Mommy did you get one of
those put in today or what?” He starts
kindergarten in the fall so thankfully he will never have to come with me to
the China doctor again.
