Category: Mama Moments

Those funny and heart-touching moments of being a mama.

This Dude’s a Doll

kendoll2My sister-in-law arrived last night bearing gifts for my son, one of which was a Ken doll — yes, as in Ken and Barbie. He is a half-clad surfer guy with a shark tooth necklace and actual head of hair instead of the old-fashioned molded variety. Yes, this is a very cool dude.

I’m not sure my sister-in-law brought Ken into our home because she thought my son would enjoy it and it might make him into a kinder, gentler playmate; or better yet, to see if she could get a rise out of her “manly man” brother.  I just have to say, my dear husband stepped up to the Daddy plate and hit this one out of the park.

My husband eww’d and ahh’d over Ken and even suggested that he might make a suitable bath time buddy. So off to the bathroom they three went, and what a time it was. My husband had to wash not one, but two heads of hair (at our son’s request), demonstrated the fabulous floating technique that Ken possessed and even stripped him of his cool surfer shorts to dry for the next day.

Not knowing if my hubby was putting up a good front for me, his sister and our son, I finally broke down and asked if he was really okay with our son’s. . . well, let’s just say it, “doll.” He responded, “Of course I am. . . but G.I. Joe would’ve been cooler.”

Warning: Inappropriate Use of Anatomically Correct Vocabulary

Don’t even ask where the conversation started, but my two-year-old son now knows the existence of “boobies” (thanks honey). In an effort to convince him that boys don’t have boobies, I explained to him that he only has nipples. . . knowing that this whole conversation would rear its ugly head at exactly the wrong time.

While his admission was innocent, the timing was wrong and yesterday in church he explained to the family behind us (and anyone else in the surrounding pews) that he has nipples. Yes, “nipples” apparently does have a place in the worship service; and yes, apparently I can turn three shades of pink. Amid giggles and smiles, the young father behind us simply leaned forward, confirmed what he heard and gave my husband a big high five.

Tag, You’re the Parent

Kudos to single parents — I don’t know how you do it sometimes. . . especially when your child does something so darn cute that is so darn wrong.

Case in point:  My son was sitting in his highchair eating dry Cheerios and suddenly said, “In my nose.” I glanced over to see half a Cheerios peeking out his nose while he smiled that mischievous little grin of his. It was funny. I know it shouldn’t have been funny and it’s very wrong to allow your child to stuff objects up his nose, but I had to try really hard not to grin right back at him.  I mustered up a simple “no,” but thankfully my husband in the next room tag teamed the raising of our son at that very moment. He ran into the room, looked straight at me, quietly said, “don’t laugh” and proceeded to properly parent the situation.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all holler, “tag, you’re the parent.”

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