The Poop Chair and other Mom-isms

Posted on | February 18, 2010 | 3 Comments

I wonder if my child is going to be scarred for life by some of the things I say. Just how much does his little psyche pick up and carry for a lifetime? For example, if I repeatedly squeeze J’s legs and comment on how he’s a little chunk and I wish he could do the truffle shuffle… will that translate into body issues when he gets older? And when I say things like “Sex before you are 21 will make your penis fall off.” Will that harm him at a later date? How ’bout the fact that breastmilk is BoobieMilk and saying “boobie” already makes him laugh?

I also can’t wrap my head around the fact that at some point he’s going to start talking and my strange (and AWESOME) names for things will have to revert back to their ordinary titles. So no more calling J’s fingernails “finger weeds” and definitely no more calling the exersaucer “the Poop Chair.” I can just see how that would play out at daycare when he’s older. “Miss Teacher, can I get in the poop chair?” I don’t think he’ll find the potty quite as entertaining. Plus, it would probably cause unnecessary messes for his poor teacher. (and more importantly, me!)
In all seriousness, his exersaucer has magical qualities that lure the poop out of him. He poops every time he sits in it. Every. Time. Even if he just pooped five seconds ago, if he lays eyes on the poop chair, his bowels move. It’s extraordinary. I have a love/hate relationship with the poop chair. It’s fabulous when we need to go somewhere and I want to clear all the poop out of his system. It’s not so fabulous when I put him down for a few seconds while I slap on make up to go to work and he poops through seventeen layers of diaper and straight through his clothes as well. We’ve lost a lot of good outfits that way.

I guess if J makes it to adulthood and the only problem he has is an inability to poop without a light up octopus and spinning fish, I’m doing okay. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. Otherwise, I’m looking at a future full of exersaucers over toilets and a 17 year-old who wonders why there are no poop chairs in public restrooms. It could be worse, right?

Comments

3 Responses to “The Poop Chair and other Mom-isms”

  1. Ali
    February 18th, 2010 @ 2:21 pm

    Ah Breastmilk in our house is Mommy Milk. I love the sex before 21 will make your penis fall off!
    Oh and our son frequently askes his cousins and grandparents to look at his man boob's so don't feel bad about your little one laughing at the word boobies!

  2. Cyndi @ 6 Ring Circus
    February 18th, 2010 @ 8:19 pm

    That is SO TRUE about the exersaucer! Our son has the same result. And the good news is that you WON'T really have to revert to appropriate language if you don't want to. We still say crazy things to our boys and it just makes them very fun kids with great senses of humor. :o) Appropriateness is totally overrated!

  3. Rebekah
    February 18th, 2010 @ 9:26 pm

    Oxy Clean Baby. it is the magic elixir of laundry. It takes poop out of everything even the fabric seats of the Poop Chair…er…exersacuer.

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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