Kids are STILL Gross

Being a mom of young children, I have neither bathed nor pooped by myself in about three years and 10 months now. Occasionally I do have the audacity to desire a bath. My girls both have decided I need assistance in this activity. They bring me much needed “toys” to play with while I am soaking and will rub my shoulder with a wash cloth to “help” me.
One of my daughters (who shall remain nameless for her protection) is a notorious bath water drinker. She has been drinking bathwater since her earliest bathing experiences. We have to no avail tried to break her of this habit reminding her that “your sister pees in there.”
This particular day she was using a spoon to drink my bath water while I was relaxing and thoroughly trying to ignore her. Daddy walks in and says, “Are you drinking mom’s bathwater?”
I saw her eyes get wide as all of our admonishments regarding drinking bathwater suddenly sunk in. In a panicked voice she asks, “Mom, did you pee in there.”
“Probably,” I replied.
Pausing for a moment, she shrugs, “Oh well, I’ll drink a little anyway.”
Guess we aren’t breaking this bad habit.

Bathrooms And Humiliation And Transvestites, Oh My!

I have been giving a lot of thought to the hubbub in Houston over public restrooms. For those of you unversed, the city council of Houston has passed a bathroom bill.   Section 51-17(b) of the bill reads as follows,

“ It shall be unlawful for any place of public accommodation or any employee or agent thereof to deny any person entry to any restroom, shower room, or similar facility if that facility is consistent with and appropriate to that person’s expression of gender identity”

In case you missed that, it means that if a person thinks they are a female, even if they aren’t, then they can use the ladies restroom, shower, etc.

First of all, this is not really anything new.   When I was in my twenties, showering at the local YMCA, there were mothers who brought their clearly way-too-old male children in to the women’s locker room.   This has been a pet peeve of mine for some time. If your kiddo is old enough to shave; and his voice has dropped, then he is probably too old to hold your hand on a trip to the bathroom ladies. My point being is that this is a variety of humiliation that women have been subject to for some time. We are used to this junk, so bring it.

Everyone is crying about the poor children and how they may have to go to the bathroom with some man, but it is not the children I am worried about.   I am not sure that these transgender individuals have any understanding of the rather complete extent to which children can embarrass you.

On a recent shopping trip to Kroger, whilst in the deli, my 2 year old palmed my boobs and squeezed them hard, yelling, “Honk, Honk Mommy! I squeeze your bellybutton.”

Amidst the snickers and glares, I remained calm, “Is that my belly button?”

Z collapses into a fit of giggles, “No Silly Mommy, that’s where milk comes from, like a cow.”

At this point, I really wanted to die, but wait, there’s more. The very next week, same Kroger, frozen aisle we are just passing a smokin’ hot guy.   Z immediately starts blushing and flirting, batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair.   I am bemused by this rather appropriate response. She looks him deeply in the eyes and in her best toddler, husky voice uses the greatest pick up line of all time, uttering, “I eats my boogers.”

Great. Thanks for that kid.

Similarly, my friend Supermom is in the bathroom with her tot at the zoo.   Tot says, “I like your butt mommy. You have a nice butt.”

Cute, right?   Everyone in the adjacent stalls laughs politely.   Supermom said later that she could see the next thought run through Tot’s head and she tried to cover her mouth right as she blurts out, “I don’t like your front butt. It too hairy.”

She had to hide in the bathroom till everyone is gone. Almost ALL of my friends have been subjected to some variation of the above by their overly honest children.

So in conclusion, if a tranny would like to use the bathroom with my kiddo, you are welcome to do so, but I am clearly unable to stop her from embarrassing me in public, so when she says, “Mommy, why does that dude look like a lady?” don’t blame me, she does this stuff ALL. THE. TIME.

Also, don’t think I won’t use this to my advantage if it comes to my area. Believe me, I have waited through enough lines at the ladies room during concerts and sporting events to take significant time off my life. From now on, I plan on marching over to the men’s bathroom and explaining that I am feeling really masculine today and take my place atop the porcelain throne.

Actually, I think this whole thing is really stupid.   If you are good enough at being transgender, then people really shouldn’t notice that you are in the wrong restroom to begin with. Seriously, have you seen pictures of trannies from Thailand? They are stunning and I challenge you to pick out which ones are really men.   On the other hand, if you appear obviously male, and happen to be wearing tights, you should probably stick with men’s room. I think this is a good rule of thumb, but apparently the city council of Houston knows best.

My Toddler’s Eating Disorder

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In a responsible way I have made great efforts not to pass my body issues on to my daughters. I do not subscribe to ANY fashion magazines. Our television is not connected to cable, so this limits her viewing options to Dora or Wonder Pets. We do have a scale in the house, but I don’t weigh myself in front of her.

The scale is located in our bathroom and anyone who ever has had children will tell you that once you have a baby, you never get to go to the bathroom alone again. Sometimes if I have to go, I hold it until I can get to work and go by myself. By the way, this is the exact opposite of the practice I used to follow

I digress. In the course of my use of the facilities, Z has taken to standing on the scale and “checking her number”.   She doesn’t know what the number means, but she likes to make numbers appear on the digital scale.   Charming right?   We have even used this as a learning opportunity to teach her about numbers.

I spend a great deal of my day at work arguing with patients about their weight. Everyone insists that our scales are off and want to be weighed on a second or even third scale. Some patients have a favorite scale in the office and only want to be weighed on the favorite scale. Some want me to record the value they get on their home scale, and not the office scale. I have had patients remove everything from their shoes to jewelry in attempt to get that number a little lower.

Z has had a solid “number” of twenty-eight for the last couple of months. She proudly will stand on the scale and proclaim, “my number is twenty-eight”. Imagine my surprise last week when she announces, “I’m going to check my number,” and hopped up on the scale. The number said, “28.6”. I could see Z look at me with some degree of confusion and consternation.

I said, “Oh, look, your number has changed. It is twenty-eight point six. “ I mustered a great degree of excitement for this to ensure that she wouldn’t develop any life-long psychiatric scars because of mommy’s reaction to her weight at two years old.

She shrugged, “Its cuz I hab my shoes on.”

Great, I thought, Glad you are working on your eating disorder already. Its never too early to get started on that kiddo. I followed that up with a giant sigh and eye roll. I have a feeling I have years of sighs and eye rolls ahead of me.

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