Mom = No Privacy

I know I've written about this before, but I'm still amazed every time one of my kids barges in on me while I'm in the bathroom eliminating. Why they can't just talk to me outside the bathroom door, or better yet, wait until I'm finished, is beyond me.

A few days ago it happened again ...

Megan: Mom!!

Me once again wishing I could just poop in peace, but our bathroom door doesn't lock: Don't come in here!

Megan completely disregarding my request: Oooh, it stinks in here!!

Me: Serves you right for walkin' in on me.

Megan: Are you done?

Me: Does it smell like I'm done?

Megan: Nope.

So she left, but because of her abrupt intrusion, I was no longer in a relaxed state, and therefore could not continue with the business at hand. So it turns out I was done after all.

Honestly ... will the sacrifices never end?

Salad Aftermath

The other night I had salad for dinner. As I've mentioned before, Megan detests the smell of my salads. And we're not talking egg-salad, but just the kind with lettuce, tomatoes, and such. It's not enough for her to sit at the opposite side of the table ... she has to clip her nose shut as well. Whatever.

After dinner, the girls bathed and then it was my task to comb out their hair. While I was doing that ...

Megan: Mom, did you just fart?

Me: No, why?

Megan: Because it smelled like one of yours.

Me: Oh really? And just what do mine smell like?

Megan: SALAD!!

Naturally.

Seat Cover Chaos

Okay. I guess I'm officially OLD. Things are happening to me at 42, that I never thought would be a part of my everyday existence.

Heartburn? Really?? The only time I've ever had to deal with that in the past was when I was 8+ months pregnant. And now, it's not really everyday, but rather once a month or so. And when it hits, it's BAD. Like I'm not sure if I'm having a heart attack or heartburn, you know? Yeah. BAD.

And apparently now I have to wear shoes with "support"?! Seriously? Name one pair of cute shoes out there with proper arch support!! I DARE YOU. Not to mention the fact that I live in CALIFORNIA, also known as the FLIP-FLOP STATE. So now if I choose cute flips over orthopedic-ish footwear, I spend the next day hobbling around with sore, inflamed feet. PATHETIC.

And how 'bout this? Twice now in the past 2 months, a slight sore throat has manifested itself into a Bell's palsy type reaction on my mouth. One side of my mouth gets puffy and drawn-down. It only lasts a day, but it's so not attractive. Oh, and a friend of mine said the same thing happened to her when her hormones started changing. SERIOUSLY?! Could I not just have hot flashes like everyone else?!?!?!?!?!

I won't even mention the state of my mind (Okay, one quick example: Thought I had TSS. Even went to the doctor for confirmation, but turned out it was just the flu, and what I thought had gotten "lost", was never actually inserted to begin with!! Hello?! Who's losing her ever-lovin' mind?!?!? MEEEEE!!!!)

So that brings me to this past week, and the reason for my title. I really try to drink a lot of water during the day, which means many trips to the restroom. Usually this isn't a problem, but the other day ... yeah, PROBLEM. Seat covers are not optional in a public restroom, in my opinion. So there I am, emptying my bladder, and upon completion I stand up only to realize that I've apparently "picked up" something with my, uh, "cheeks". I knew something didn't feel quite right, and when I looked back ... there it was ... the seat cover, wedged between my bunzolas. Nice, huh? So I dealt with it and dismissed it as a fluke. I mean, it was almost humorous. Almost ... until it happened TWO MORE TIMES THAT SAME DAY!!! Come ON!! What is the deal?! Does this not sound like something that only happens in nursing homes? Oh my WORD. And it's not even a skill I can use to my advantage. I mean when does one ever need to pick something up with their backside?! EXACTLY.

I'm scared to think what other ways my body plans on failing me in the next few years.

One thing's for sure ... if you're in my inner circle of friends and I start tooting without any apparent realization ... just lock me up. Seriously. Save yourselves.

Watch This!

Driving home from school ...

Megan: Mom, watch this!

Me: I can't "watch this" while I'm driving.

Megan: Okay, then just listen.

Me: What is that?

Megan: My farts.

At this point I turn around even though I'm still driving and see her making fart noises with her hands.

Me: Nice, Meg.

Megan: Thanks!

What is it with kids and fart noises?!

Changing the Subject

The girls had a friend over for dinner the other night. Megan apparently felt the need to give their guest a heads-up on Amanda's dinner behavior ...

Megan: Just to warn you, Amanda farts a LOT at the dinner table.

Me: Uh, could we talk about something a little less disgusting while we're eating?

Megan: Sure. She also likes toast.

Me: Thank you.

Planning Ahead

As the girls were waiting to ride over to their friends' house the other day ...

Megan: Excuse me.

Me: What for?

Megan smiles

Me: Wait, are you gonna' fart?

Megan: Yep. That way I can have good manners at the Raynes' house.

So ... should I be proud here or what?

Oh Mii Oh My

I think my girls enjoy making "Miis" on the Wii, more than actually playing the games.

If you don't know what a "Mii" is, it's a character you create on the Wii. (If you don't know what a "Wii" is, please Google it. If you don't know what Google is, please get some help.)

The other day Megan and Amanda were talking about Meg's latest Mii creation ...

Amanda: What about Peeonearth?

Me: What did you say?

Megan: She asked me about my Mii, Peeonearth.

Me: You named your Mii "Pee on Earth"?!

Megan: Yeah.

Me: WHY?!

Megan: It's the only name I could think of.

Seriously?

Here are some of their other Mii creations:

Forgetting

It was Saturday night and we were at the table eating dinner. And by "we", I mean me and Megan. Amanda was protesting dinner and taking it out on the piano in the other room, and Henry was working.

I looked over at Megan as if to say, "Can you even believe how your sister is behaving?" But apparently that's the same look I give before saying, "Uh ... are you going to say 'excuse me'?" Because the following conversation ensued after I gave her the look ...

Megan: Sorry, I forgot.

Me: Forgot what?

Megan: That I pushed one out.

Me: Pushed what out?

Megan: A fart. See? I'm always forgetting, because when I push it out fast, I forget in like 2 seconds that it happened.

Me: Okaaay.

Megan: I forgot AGAIN!!

Me: So ...

Megan: Excuse me.

Me: You're excused.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Speaking of forgetfulness, have you seen this cartoon?

High Heaven

Last night during dinner ...

Amanda: Excuse me, I farted.

I give her the "look".

Megan: Her farts stink like high heaven!

Me: To high heaven, Meg. They stink to high heaven.

Megan: Yep, they do.

Superbowl Psycho

While watching the Superbowl this past Sunday, Amanda, for lack of a better word, went psycho.

She was beyond hyper.

Dancing all over the room.

Talking VERY loudly.

Laughing boisterously.

And breaking A LOT of wind.

Now you know why we didn't invite any of you over to watch the game with us.

At one point she was sitting on the couch shaking her legs uncontrollably. We all just stared in disbelief.

Amanda: Look! I can shake my legs at will.

Me: Wow.

Henry: Poor Will.

Amanda: Huh?

Henry: Poor Will. You shake your legs at him, fart at him ...

It's true. Will deserves so much better.

Family Car Time

We're down to one car for a little while. Yeah it's inconvenient at times, but it's also kinda' nice to have the imposed family time. Here's this morning's conversation on the ride to school ...

Megan: Why doesn't our roof ever have frost on it?

Me: It faces a direction that the sun hits more than houses facing a different direction.

Henry: Our house faces South. The houses you see the most frost on are facing North.

Amanda (pointing to the left and right): Is that way North and that way South?

Me: Yes.

Henry: So which way is East?

Amanda points to the West and Megan points to the East.

Me: Megan's right.

Megan: Ha! Ha! I got it right.

Amanda: Hey, she's bragging!

Megan: So what? You brag about your farts!

Amanda: I do not!

Henry: Well maybe you don't brag about 'em, but you sure do have a proud look on your face afterwards.

See what an edifying conversation we would have missed out on had we been able to take separate cars this morning?

I Can Pee WHERE?!

I feel the need to warn you all about the content of this post. In it I talk a lot about poop and pee. And not poop and pee from a child, but from ME. I know! Adult poop and pee stories aren't cute like a child's poop and pee story. So what's wrong with me? Why am I sharing it? And on the WORLD WIDE WEB no less?! Well, it's all because of this odd dream I had last night that brought to mind another time I had "issues" of this nature ... Read on if you dare, but please do so without judging. I did try to warn you.

One more thing before I continue: I would just like to apologize to my mother and to my husband, who will no doubt be mortified by this post.

Okay, so I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in college and getting ready for a date when I realized that I had to go #2 (Yes, POOP.) I wasn't sure there would be enough time to successfully "eliminate" before my date arrived, so I was in this panic mode, trying to get 'er done as quickly as possible. I went into the master bathroom, but was unable to produce anything. Not good. So I thought to myself, "I'll bet this bathroom is the problem. I'll go to the other one." The main bathroom wasn't any better. I was still unable to void (I've always hated the word "void" when used for this bodily function. So naturally I'm using it here.) In my oh-so-rational-dream-thought-process, I figured I should try yet a third bathroom. So I did, but STILL NOTHING. It's not like I was constipated, I just couldn't relax enough to, as my friend would say, "release the crease".

That's when I woke up.

That's also when I realized how thankful I was that I had not been successful in my efforts to defecate while dreaming because, hello? What kind of bed mess would THAT have been @ 4:30 in the morning?!

Exactly.

Alright, so that dream reminded me of childbirth. Well, not of childbirth, but more of what happened to me soon after childbirth.

It had been a couple hours since the delivery, and I remember the nurse coming in and telling me that I needed to try and urinate as soon as I felt the urge.

Sure, no problem.

And then she said something that had NEVER been said to me before:

Nurse: "You know, you could even go in the bed if you want to. There are bed liners, so if that's what you choose to do, just let me know when you're done."

Me: "You mean I have permission to wet the bed?!"

Nurse: "Yep."

Me: "I am so gonna' do that."

Nurse: "Okay, but just be forewarned that some people can't do it."

Me: "Seriously?"

Nurse: "Yeah, it's like their brain won't let them."

Me: "I'll give it my best shot."

Nurse: "Good luck."

So that was the plan. I mean, who wouldn't wet the bed if given permission, knowing that once they did, someone else would clean it up? It was a no-brainer.

Guess what? She was right! I couldn't do it. I tried and I tried, but it was like the 30+ years of NOT being allowed to do it suddenly had a death grip on my bladder.

So not fair.

Snoring and Other Bodily Functions.

While eating dinner with the fam tonight ...

Megan: I heard you snore last night, Amanda.

Amanda: I don't snore. MOM's the one that snores!

Me: I do?

Amanda: Yes, you do!

Henry: Well, you fart, Amanda.

Yes! Farting always trumps snoring! Whew.

More Vintage Meg

The following took place when Megan was about 2 years old.

Why so many of the posts about Megan have to do with poop and farting, I'll never know, but here goes.

She was sitting on my lap one day when she let one rip. I waited several seconds for the follow up "excuse me", and when it didn't come, I said: MEGAN!! What do you SAY?!?!?

She thought about it for a little while, then exclaimed: AMEN!!

So be it.

WHOOPEE!!

Took the girls to John's Incredible Pizza tonight because they had been given free meal coupons during the last week of school as a reward for good behavior throughout the year.

For those of you who don't know, John's Incredible Pizza is similar to Chuck E. Cheese, but with much better food. For those of you who are still in the dark ... it's a pizza place with a huge arcade where you can win tickets to later cash in for junky prizes.

The girls each ended up with 300 tickets to spend. Amanda picked several little things (mini deck of cards, frisbee, etc.) Megan, on the other hand, chose to spend her wad on none other than the classic Whoopee Cushion. Who needs a son with a daughter like her?

Amanda: Mom, can you believe Megan used almost all of her tickets on a Whoopee Cushion?

Me: Uh, yeah.

Amanda: You know what would have been better?

Me: What?

Amanda: At Walgreens for like 3 bucks, they have Whoopee Cushions that reinflate themselves so you can fart as much as you want!

Me: As much as you want? Megan already does that on her own.

Amanda: True.

Megan Etiquette 101

The girls were invited to go swimming at Noah's house down the street. Noah is about 6 years old, and has this love/hate relationship with my girls. He loves to play with them because it's better than playing alone. But he also hates playing with them because they only want to do girly stuff.

On their way out the door I called out ...

Me: Be careful in the pool, and be respectful to Noah's mom!

Megan: We know, we know!! No farting, and that includes arm farts.

Me: Uh, right.

So Proud

The other night after her bath, Megan was very excited to show me a new talent she had acquired. A skill that I tried and tried to master myself as a young girl, but never could. It's something that boys take for granted, I'm quite sure. Just like making those machine gun sounds with their mouths. I could never do that either, darn it.

Megan: Mom!! Guess what I can do!

Me: What?

Megan: I can do an arm fart!

Me: NO WAY!!

Megan: And not just ONE, but TWO at the same time!!

Me: Let's hear it!

Standing outside the tub naked, she put her right hand under her left armpit, and her left hand under her right armpit and went to town. I couldn't believe my ears! She was actually doing it! I was so proud and so envious at the same time. She's funny, cute, AND can do a double arm fart ... I believe that's what they call a "triple threat".

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

To say Amanda is inquisitive would be an understatement. Sometimes I can't even get the answer out before she's asking something else. Here is a small sampling of the burning questions plaguing her ...


Mom, do you have any brown earrings I can borrow? Ew. Those look too old-lady.


Mom, did you think Peter Brady was cute when you were a kid?


Could you check my ears for wax?


Mom, you know that "Uncle Roger" really isn't my Uncle, right?


Don't you think I sound exactly like Miley Cyrus when I sing?


Do you think Dad will like my gift? The gift was a calculator tape of all the birthday spankings he's missed out on over the years (Age 1 - 50). Total Spankings Due = 1275.

Did your food really taste like metal when you had braces?

She and Megan decided to sleep in each other's beds tonight ... Mom, you don't think Megan will fart in my bed, do you?

Girls vs. Boys + German Shepherds

Bedtime is usally when conversations with the girls get interesting. Tonight, before brushing her teeth, Amanda was looking through my jewelry box.

Amanda: "Mom"

Me: "Yes?"

Amanda: "Girls get better rings than the boys, right?"

Me: "Are you talking about wedding rings?"

Amanda: "Yeah."

Me: "Well, the girl's ring is usually fancier, but I don't know that I would say 'better'. Why?"

Amanda: "Everyone knows that girls get better stuff than boys."

Good to know.

Soon after that, Megan came to me with a pink, plastic, beaded necklace in her mouth, covering her front teeth.


Me: "Megan, what are you doing?"


Megan: "These are my braces."


Me: "Braces?"


Megan: "Yeah. I'm a German Shepherd."


Me: "A German Shepherd with braces?"


Megan: "Uh huh. And I fart like a German Shepherd too."


Me: "Really."


Megan: "Yeah, I'm a Fart Shepherd."


That's my girl.

A Palm Sunday Drive

We had a wonderful visit with our family in Visalia this afternoon and evening (Thanks, Aunt Vera!) On the ride home, however, things got a tad bit silly.

It all started when we saw a train off to the right of the freeway. Amanda wanted to know why the train didn't have a caboose. Henry explained that most trains don't have them anymore. Before he could explain why, we all caught wind of something very prevalent in Central California ~ A DAIRY. If you don't know what a dairy smells like, consider yourself blessed. (Side Note: On the way to our family gathering, and while passing yet another a dairy, I mused to Henry that bathrooms on dairies probably didn't have any need for air fresheners. It's not like they could actually make a difference. Am I right, or am I right?)

Okay, so as we're driving through the foul smelling area, I turned to my most gaseous daughter and said, "Hey, Meg, if you need to pass anything, now would be a good time." She replied, "If cabooses farted, they would be so powerful, they could go up a tree!" Huh?

From there, the potty talk picked up speed, involving Nuns and their "habits". I can't even remember all that was said, but at one point, I was concerned that Henry might drive off the road for laughing so hard.

So much for a dignified ending to Palm Sunday.