Parenting: Illustrated with Crappy Pictures Page 5

  (PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!)

  I look at the total and have to decide how much tip to give. (PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!)

  I frantically sign it and hand it back and throw the pen at him. (PENIS! PENIS!)

  Crappy Cat runs to the door and attempts to bolt outside, but I stop him by stepping on him with my foot. (Gently. Relax, Cat Freaks.)

  I’m embarrassed and acting so odd that he must think I’m absolutely crazy. Which I am, but I don’t want other people to know.

  Balancing on the cat, I manage to say thanks and shut the door.

  I will now LOUDLY yell to the kids that the pizza is here and to get out of the tub. I’ll intentionally do it loud enough so that the pizza delivery man walking down our porch steps will hear it. This will reassure him that everything is totally normal in our house. That this whole thing has left me unfazed. Just a regular mom with silly kids.

  So I yell something. Just not the right thing.

  Yes. I yelled that.

  I will never answer the door again.

  MY FAVORITE

  But of all the funny and clever things they’ve ever said, my favorite is simple. And it is even the same thing for both kids:

  Language doesn’t get any better than that.

  Poop is funny!

  SO MUCH POOPING

  When Crappy Boy was a week old, I had no idea what I was doing. He pooped. And he pooped. And he pooped. It seemed like he was pooping every five minutes! Probably because he was pooping every five minutes.

  It went like this…

  He pooped. I took off his dirty diaper and cleaned him up. He was starting to get a little red. Oh no, a rash already? Must be from all the pooping. I had to put a little diaper cream on him. I started to apply it gently with my finger and:

  He pooped all over my hand. And the new diaper. And the changing mat.

  So I started over with more wipes. Finally, I got a fresh diaper on. As I gently pressed down to fasten the tabs:

  He pooped again. And again.

  Fortunately, this phase didn’t last. Eventually, he pooped less frequently. Like once every six minutes instead of five.

  DIAPER TREASURE

  Crappy Baby is in a diaper-stuffing stage. Nearly every diaper change contains a hidden treasure. Sometimes it is just a handful of sand. Sometimes it is a sticker. Or a small toy. Or a rock. Or crackers.

  One time I found something good:

  So that is where it went.

  ELEPHANT POOP

  So it is the day before we leave for a trip. (Yes, the “Crappiest Trip” that I describe in Chapter 5.)

  It is early morning and we haven’t started packing yet. I walk into the family room and smell…something. Crappy Papa notices it at the same time.

  He says it smells like dead animals. What could it be? It does not smell like poop. It is too atrocious. Too rotten.

  But when there is an unidentified stench in the vicinity of a diaper-clad baby, I automatically check. I have to.

  Crappy Boy jokingly asks if he pooped dead animals, because of what Crappy Papa said.

  And Crappy Baby answers affirmatively. Excitedly.

  Says he pooped elephants. We all laugh. I’m a little worried that this is a clever way of saying he pooped a ginormous amount.

  But the diaper is clean.

  I declare “no poops” and he responds merrily with “just toots” and we carry on. The smell has dissipated so we forget all about it.

  That evening, while getting pajamas for the boys after their bath, I’m interrupted by the call of doom. “Uh-oh!”

  I enter the dining room and Crappy Baby is sitting on a chair. Naked.

  The stinkiest elephant diarrhea. All over the upholstered chair. And table. And him.

  We scrape off the excess and clean up the mess. We go on our crappy trip. (See Chapter 5.) And then we return.

  A few days after our return, I think back to the “Elephants!” scene that preceded everything. It was the ominous foreshadowing. Now that it is all over and everyone is healthy, it is actually kinda funny.

  The rest of the family is in the other room playing a game, and I’m washing the dishes. Crappy Baby walks in.

  He says, “Uh-oh” and grabs at his diaper with a distressed look on his face.

  So I ask him if he pooped.

  He answers with hippos. Hippos!

  I panic.

  Are you kidding me? We just got home and just got over being sick. How can this possibly be happening again?

  I pick him up and carry him with the “Hold-the-baby-as-far-away-from-you-as-possible-because-you-know-the-poop-is-going-to-ooze-out-all-over-you” technique. I know it is going to be massive.

  I see something drop out of his diaper.

  But when it lands, the sound is unexpected.

  It sounds hard. Really hard. And it rolls.

  Perplexed, I set him down gently to inspect.

  And five little balls from the Hungry Hungry Hippos game drop out while he pulls at his diaper and bounces.

  The game they were playing in the other room? Hungry Hungry Hippos.

  TODDLER DIAPER CHANGES

  Diapering a toddler is a different animal. An animal with much bigger and stinkier poops.

  Toddler poopy diaper changes are a two-person job, but I’m often understaffed.

  First, a scent is detected:

  He says no to everything so he is not to be trusted.

  I go for a visual check by pulling the back of his diaper away from his body:

  Being careful to only grab the outside of the fabric, just in case the poop has gone all the way up his back. As usual.

  I have to get a visual to determine the severity of the poop. This information is used to estimate how many wipes I’ll need to prepare.

  It is severe.

  I go and wet several with warm water and then plant the wipes in the changing area and find Crappy Baby.

  I don’t even have to say anything. He knows that it is diaper-changing time. So he runs:

  And usually winds up ducking under the table.

  And no amount of coaxing will make him budge. I have to drag him out as he giggles. He finds all of this hilarious.

  We arrive at the diaper-changing area. I’m totally prepared with wipes, a fresh diaper and a variety of distraction material.

  But sometimes I’m not prepared for his leg-swung-over-his-body flip maneuver:

  And he escapes!

  So I have to hold him down with one hand while selecting a distraction object. I hand him a book.

  It is a new book. Not new to our house but new to the distraction offerings basket.

  So it actually works:

  I move at lightning speed, unsnapping the diaper and grabbing wipes. Holding his ankles with one hand and wiping with the other.

  Almost there! This is going well…

  Book is tossed. His hands go straight to the poop:

  Like a ninja, I grab a second distraction object—a duck. I do this using only my mind because I can’t let go of his legs.

  I offer it in an excited, high-pitched tone so that it sounds fantastically interesting. He takes it. But it too winds up where I don’t want it:

  Fortunately, he is pretty clean already.

  All that is left is to get a new diaper on him. He really hates this.

  He backbends, he twists, he flails his arms and legs.

  I have to hold him down with my knee:

  And finally…done! Until the next poop.

  POOP IS SPECIAL

  Potty training is funny. But I’m not saying it is fun. Those are two different words.

  Crappy Baby is fascinated by his poop in the toilet. And it makes sense. When his poop appears, he receives applause and smiles and high fives. Poop must be special!

  Crappy Baby is sitting on the toilet and asks me:

  He is asking me what the name of his poop is. I tell him it doesn’t have a name. It is just poop. He gets very upset about this, so I decide to play alo
ng.

  I suggest George.

  He looks down into the toilet for a moment and then finally says:

  He then dumped it into the toilet, and sadly said goodbye to Floofy.

  Yep, poop is special.

  By now you might think I’m some kind of parenting expert. I am. Since I’m an expert, I’ve made a list of parenting laws based on my scientific research.

  The moment the baby finally falls asleep for a nap, the doorbell will ring. Followed by the phone. And the dog barking. And the older child yelling.

  The more excited you think they’ll be about a gift, the more they will only play with the box.

  The colder it is, the more they will NOT put on a sweater.

  The closing of a bathroom door causes end-of-the-world panic.

  If you are sweeping, the only path they can take is right through the pile.

  If you are extra tired, they will pick the longest book from the shelf for bedtime.

  The very first time a child dons new clothes, they will be stained forever.

  When you tuck them into bed, they will inevitably (and all of a sudden) become very hungry and very thirsty and also have to pee.

  When you make their favorite meal, they won’t eat it.

  After a long car drive during which you hoped they would nap, they fall asleep a mile from your destination.

  The more you are running late, the more poop happens.

  A baby can’t use a spoon or tie his shoes, but he can delete applications from your phone.

  The more important a phone call is, the louder they become.

  The moment you sit down to eat a nice dinner, the baby will poop.

  The more things you are carrying, the more desperately they will require being picked up.

  When you sneak to the pantry to eat chocolate, you will get caught.

  They will always select the most dangerous object to pull out of the cupboard.

  And they’ll pick up the most fragile item in a room.

  When you hope for a quick nap, they will sleep for hours. When you hope for a long nap, they won’t nap at all.

  A baby will always find something disgusting to put in his mouth, no matter how much you clean or babyproof your home.

  The one thing you forget to bring is the one thing they ask for.

  The presence of a video camera immediately eradicates any talent they were just demonstrating.

  Projectile vomiting is real. (What, this isn’t a Crappy Law? Trust me. It is.)

  The later you go to bed, the earlier they will wake up the next morning.

  The better children behave for someone else, the crazier they will be when they come home.

  Two (or more) kids will never nap at the same time.

  Babies only poop on a newly changed diaper, immediately after a bath or when the diapers and the diaper bag are in the washing machine.

  The one and only item they are willing to eat is the one you just ran out of.

  Symptoms disappear when you go to the doctor.

  They will repeat things at inappropriate times.

  Food is 100 percent more appealing when it is on the floor or on someone else’s plate.

  If you need to get something done during naptime, it is guaranteed that they will not nap.

  On mornings you need to go somewhere, they must be dragged out of bed. On weekends, they wake up before sunrise.

  Kids always get sick right before a family vacation or a parent date night.

  The one day you only brought three diapers along is the day they will poop four times.

  They will want their rejected food back right after you finish eating it.

  When they vomit, it will most likely be on you.

  Art supplies are used on everything except paper.

  They only spike a fever after the sun goes down and the doctor’s office is closed.

  They always pick the best words to parrot.

  If you ever tell another parent that you don’t have a problem with something, you will begin having that problem tenfold.

  Dressing them in a Halloween costume or layers of winter clothes is directly correlated with their need to pee.

  No matter how much you feed them before you leave, the moment they arrive somewhere they will be starving. Especially if there is no food.

  The baby will fall asleep on you, but only when you have to pee. Very badly.

  When you need space, they will cling to you. Physically.

  If you toss out that half of a plastic Easter egg they got three years ago, they will notice.

  The only toy they are interested in is the one the other kid is playing with.

  They do not censor their words or their volume. Especially in public.

  The moment you are about to snap, they say something adorable.

  Which brings me to the last and perhaps the most important law of all. They will never stop surprising you. The moment you think you have them figured out…you don’t. And that is awesome.

  Parenting: Illustrated with Crappy Pictures

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-0986-5

  © 2013 by Amber Dusick

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  For permission please contact Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada, M3B 3K9.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Dusick, Amber.

  Parenting: illustrated with crappy pictures / Amber Dusick. p. cm.

  1. Parenthood--Humor. 2. Child rearing--Humor. I. Title.

  PN6231.P2D87 2013

  818’.602--dc23

  2012031901

  ® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and/or other countries.

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