Feel The Burn

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Welcome to a Fly on the Wall group post. Today 12 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you’d see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house.

Buzz around, see what you think, then click on the links at the bottom of my post for a peek into some other homes.

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“Having a little girl has been like following an old treasure map with the important paths torn away.” – Heather Gudenkauf

One of my most popular and most read posts of all time recounts the night my daughter’s vagina fell out.  You can read it here.  Crazy times. Every time my daughter calls me with some physical ailment or another, we measure it on the “vagina falling out” scale.  God love her, but she can be a tad dramatic.  I don’t know where she gets it.  Like AT ALL.  One time, she got a boil from an ingrown hair and was convinced she had ebola.  Dr. Google is her physician and he’s always presenting her with worst case scenarios.  I keep telling her to quit asking him.

One day a short while ago, this same daughter and I were taking our daily walk with her new puppy and I notice she’s kinda walking funny.  I’m torn between ignoring it and asking her about it.  I just never know what she will say.  She has a tendency to overshare.  On the one hand, I’m thrilled that she trusts me enough to talk to me, really talk to me, about anything and everything.  On the other hand, there are some topics I would be happy to avoid…forever.  I watch her continue to kinda waddle along until I can’t stand it anymore and I ask her.  I should have kept my mouth shut.  When will I learn.

Apparently, she’d had a rough day a couple of days ago.  This guy she’s dating had come over to her apartment to hang out, and when he arrived, she’d been crying.  Naturally, he asked her what was wrong, and she proceeded to sob all over him, recounting her tale of woe.  Basically, if it could have gone wrong, it did.  It was one of those days where a thousand tiny things go wrong, and you just get overwhelmed by it all and want the day to end.  Taken individually, none of these things were a big deal, but piled up on top of one another…well, sometimes you just need a good cry.  He patted her on the back, listened and then offered to make her tea.

Feeling slightly better, she accepted.  Tea sounded comforting and perfect for the situation.  She gave him a watery smile in appreciation of his thoughtfulness.  One moment, she’s cradling the cup in her lap waiting for it to cool, the next moment she’s accidentally dumping the entire boiling hot contents in her lap.  She jumps up screaming hysterically, ripping her yoga pants off.  Her date just sitting there on the couch in stunned silence.  I’m looking at her horrified as she tells me this.  She looks over at me and says “Oh, and did I mention, it’s also that time of the month?”  Oh no.

me:  “So you stripped down naked? Like…completely? With him just sitting there?”

daughter:  “Mom!  I dumped scalding hot water all over the crotch of my yoga pants.  I just wanted them off, panties and all.  I don’t think he noticed the pad though, you know with all the screaming, I’m pretty sure he was panicking and not really paying attention.  I hope so anyway. I kept my shirt on though.”

me:  “omg, well are you okay? I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”

daughter: “What could you have done?  Yeah, I’m okay, I mean I have burns all over my vagina, and it hurts to wear clothes, or walk, or sit…or do anything really. But I am walking better today at least.  I was walking really bowlegged at work, and now it’s more of a slight waddle. Like a pregnancy waddle.”

me:  shaking my head

daughter:  “Yeah so I ran into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, it was excruciating, I couldn’t think what to do.”  Her date brings her an ice pack.  “Yeah it was kinda awkward, him helping me hold the ice pack to my crotch, because I’m shaking so bad.”

me:  there are no words.

daughter:  “I’m pretty sure that’s not exactly how he imagined seeing me naked for the first time.”

me:  I’m speechless.

daughter:  “Really I’m fine.  Don’t worry.”

me:  “You and your vagina are going to be the death of me.”

daughter:  “Mom, don’t be dramatic.”

me:  “You know I’m going to write about this right?”

daughter:  “yeah, I figured.”

me:  “I’m taking that as approval.”

daughter:  sighs.

A week later, she breaks her hand.  Sigh.

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Man-child turned 10 last month.  His birthday was on a Thursday, so we decided we’d let him skip school that Friday.  He was super pumped.  On the following Monday, I put a note in his folder.  I might have fibbed.  A little.  I mean he did have a big piece of birthday cake.  A stomach ache wasn’t exactly a lie.  Exactly.  Ish.  I pick him up from school and ask him if he gave the note to his teacher.

Man-child: “Yeah I gave it to her.  I told her you lied though.”

me:  “WHAT?!?!”

man-child:  “Well, mom…come on, she wasn’t buying the tummy ache.  She knew.  And you didn’t raise me to be a liar did you?”

me:  stumped.

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My son left his iPod on the coffee table in front of me, and I notice his screensaver.

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Then my husband sends me this requesting I buy it for him:

Hello

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meet

tree-985515__340

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I used to worry that my husband and I wouldn’t have anything to talk about when our kids had all flown the nest.

husband:  “I find that I poop before the gym and then I need to go again when I get to the gym.”

me:  “How is that even possible?  Are you cutting it off before you’re finished?”

husband:  “No, I feel done when I’m done.  I’m not holding it back, it’s just like after moving around a bit more, I’ve jogged some more loose.”

me:  “I’m happy if I go once a day. I need to drink more water.”

husband:  “I can’t imagine going less than 4 or 5 times a day.”

me: “Well, you eat a tic tac and you have to poop it out.  Do you have an eating disorder?  Do you weigh your poop?”

husband:  “Is that a thing?”

me:  “Well, I saw it on a criminal minds episode once.  A girl with an eating disorder kept a food diary with her poop measurements.  So I guess so.”

husband:  “huh. The more you know…”

Clearly, my fears were unfounded.

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Man-child and I love to spend our weekend nights playing with the filter on Snapchat.  We really know how to live it up. If you’re wondering what my husband is doing during this funfest…he’s tilted back in his favorite chair, eyes closed, mouth open, gently snoring.  He’ll grunt occasionally during our antics, letting us know he’s annoyed by all the laughter.  Sometimes he’ll ask when we are going to bed? I’m not going to bed at 7pm, I don’t care how annoyed he gets.  Be jealous.  Here are some of our favorite outtakes:

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MC (man-child) Kardashian

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I’ll leave you with this horror show 😛

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“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” Confucius

Buzz around these houses next:

http://www.BakingInATornado.com

http://www.juiceboxconfession.com

http://www.menopausalmom.com/

http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com

http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

http://singlemumplusone.blogspot.com

http://batteredhope.blogspot.com

http://www.gomamao.com

http://dinoheromommy.com/

http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com

http://www.southernbellecharm.com

14 thoughts on “Feel The Burn

    • He took it really well and they are still happily dating. He could have made it super awkward and awful for her and he didn’t, for that I’m thankful. She took it in stride, and has a good sense of humor about it…after the fact of course 🙂

  1. I have a question. How did y’all not know she was allergic to latex!? Isn’t that the main glove of choice for doctors? Rough way to find out, but glad she was being safe!

    I think I need to get on Snapchat. Looks like fun!

    • Snapchat is fun, at least for me, it provides hours of entertainment 😀 That was the first time anyone had suggested she had a latex allergy, go figure. Maybe it was the brand/type. Poor baby found out the hard way regardless.

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