Tonight Izzy was a maniac. While we were at my in-law's swimming and having a cookout, he was so bad that he got two light taps on the butt from my mother-in-law, Judy. Now, I am anti-spanking, but he was really bad, and she didn't actually ask for permission. But I don't think she'll do it again, because Izzy LOST it. Screaming in hysterics for 10 minutes. A light tap on the back of his hand breaks his heart, so I knew that a spanking would kill him, and it nearly did. My little sister was right beside my mother-in-law when she did it, and she vouched that they were lighter than love-taps. Anyhow, Judy was trying to give him a hug to make up with him, and I was trying to calm him down and I said, "Izzy, MamMaw still loves you. She just wants you to be good." It just now occurred to me that this probably contributed to her tears too. She lets him go and he bolts to the front door to run away.
That's when she bursts into tears, which I actually didn't notice because I wasn't wearing my contacts. My father-in-law asked her what was the matter and she told him that Izzy wasn't acting like he loved her anymore. She was so sad. I tried to convince her that he just goes through these phases - it was my mom's turn a couple of weeks ago. I think he's just testing people to make sure they will always love him no matter how awful he acts. I still felt awfully sorry for her though. Especially since he'd just broken three of her collector's glasses too.
We decide it's time to go, get in the car and in five minutes Izzy's snoozing. We all knew he was tired when he started acting up like he was. But still. We get home and showered and Chris is trying to get a pull-up out of Izzy's chest of drawers and Izzy screams, "No!" and slams the drawer shut. Chris jerks out his hand and the pull-up, and Izzy gets the drawer shut - with his finger in it. He starts screaming bloody murder and they come down the hall to me.
Izzy is just curled up against his dad as tight as he can get, and he's crying and screaming. I ask him, "Do you want mommy to kiss it?" He holds his finger out to me, I kiss the tip of it, and the crying quickly subsides. It all but goes away when I offer to put a band-aid on it. I believe I achieved such fast results because of my magical abilities. For those of you without kids who question me, just think about your own mothers, and fathers. Their kisses really did make boo-boos better, didn't they? Magic, I tell you.
Today I also came to the realization that I don't like poop on my stomach or breasts either. Oh, yeah, motherhood is awesome. I was nursing Sophie this morning, and the beer I'd had the night before really increased my milk supply, so while she nursed on one side, the other side was pouring. So I took my pj top off to let it dry. While I was burping her, she went potty, as she is waaaaay apt to do. I laid her on the bed and saw that there was poop on her onesie AND her socks. That girl's got some pressure in her! Then I looked down and saw that I also had poop on my left breast (like that detail??) and down my stomach. That's when Chris was awakened to clean up Sophie while I cleaned up myself.
That now makes my hands, my leg, my breast and my stomach all unhappy recipients of Sophie's doody. This is not what I dreamed of when I dreamed of being a mom. The good parts really are so much better than I ever imagined, or could describe. But man oh man can I ever find the words to tell all about my poopscapades.
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