New Year, New Adventures with Boys

When Tony – now 5 – was a baby, we had a situation.

Now, I’ll give you a bit of backstory. Tony’s first pediatrician was someone recommended to us through friends, and was not a good fit. I should’ve known when she asked me at our six week check-up if I had started potty training. (Six week check-up, mind you. WEEEEEEK.) After I had to visit her three times to get her to confirm an obvious ear infection – to which she dismissed the first two times with “Kids don’t get them this young!” – we switched. The second pediatrician was a family doctor who seemed nice enough, but I was still unsure.

January had come and Tony was a little over a year old. He was walking about half the time, and into everything all of the time. But we had a small house, one that was pretty easily baby-proofed, so he had a nice amount of freedom as a toddler.

Caution: Litter box ahead!
Caution: Litter box ahead!

It was New Year’s Day, and I was still fresh in the glow of the new year, and how I was going to be a GREAT mom this year! and everything would be perfect! and all that jazz that we all feel for about five minutes into a new year.

I was running a load of clothes to the washer while Tony happily sat and cooed in his older brother’s room. He was happy and content in there, so I took my time loading the washer, and then headed back to get him when .. a smell hit me.

When I reached the doorframe, sure enough: my child turned around with what could only be described as a sh!t-eating grin. Because, ladies and gentlemen, that is exactly what had happened. (Quick factual details: cat poo.)


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My favorite part of this story (because there are few high points to this story) is that I rushed him to our new pediatrician, who calmly nodded while I told the story. I was worried about feline leukemia or some other unknown cat disease, and he just sat there, staring. I just knew that he was judging me. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and I asked, “Okay, what?”

He said – hand to God – “Well, two of my kids ate their own poop, so I think your kid is actually pretty bright.”

And I knew he was the doc for us.

****


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I think about this story – seriously – every single January that comes and goes, and I always laugh about how “new mom” that story feels now. Retelling that story now makes me laugh a confident guffaw, about how I overreacted and freaked out over nothing. Ha ha!, I think. What a naive mother I was back then.

Yesterday, I got The Call from Tony’s school. Tony – now 5 – is still in a preschool and it’s just a rare occurrence that they call. But they did. About four times while I was in a meeting. I finally stepped outside and took the call.

Tony has shoved mulch in his ear. You need to come get him ASAP.

And I became the New Mother all over again, because this was the first “extraction” we’d had! What do I do? Visit the pediatrician? Shake his head really hard? Have him do jumping jacks? Urgent Care? ER? WHAT DO I DOOOO?

(Of course my husband was out of town.)


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Well, Dr. Momma stepped up and grabbed some tweezers and suddenly, my years of slaving over my eyebrows wasn’t so funny NOW, was it? Cause I am a surgeon of mulch.

So I asked, “Okay, WHY?”

And Tony said, “Well, I was layin’ there, and I saw that piece of mulch, and I thought, You know, that will probably hurt- BUT I’LL TRY! But you know Momma? I was RIGHT.”

"Look Ma, NO MULCH!"
“Look Ma, NO MULCH!”

Still naive. Still New Mom. Happy New Year.