How is it that a little kid already has boat loads more style than me?
well… seriously, i have no clue! I encourage him to be “himself” and just go with it! I have to chalk some of it up to just genetic swagger!!! Some of it is simply that his Mama is fabulous and knows what looks good on him! But have no fear, I am sure, Anonymous, you have tons of style!!!
So, K has been fighting a cold (or allergies or heaven knows what). After his teacher mentioned that she was concerned that his cough could be pneumonia, I immediately took him (back) to urgent care. His doctor and I have been working together to use medicine as a last resort. We want his immune system to start fighting off stuff—building itself up, but with him having bronchitis a little over a month ago, I am hyper-vigilant.
Well, we went to Urgent care and waited…and waited…and waited…and waited. Two hours later, we were called in. Now if you have a toddler (or any child from 18 months to 7 years really), 2 hours in a waiting room with only a matchbox car, a thing of goldfish, 1 book and 2 crayons is like a living HELL!!! He did great and thank goodness we got a seat by the window so he could look out and comment on EVERY car that passed by!
But two hours later we finally saw the Doctor and after looking, awwwwwing, throat culturing, xraying, and whatnot—it’s just a cold (or allergies or he really didn’t really commit to anything)! Yet while the lil one sleeps, he is also screaming in his sleep, “NO! I don’t wanna see a doctor. I don’t want a band-aid on my tongue. I don’t want a stick on my teeth!” Clearly, his experience in urgent care wasn’t the pain of waiting two hours; it was the seven minutes with the Doctor!
While I know that Easter is about more than just the bunny and the other crap that goes along with it, I am certain that K really doesn’t understands that it’s about God’s love for us. It’s the greatest gift anyone could give, right? To me, it’s bigger than Christmas simply because I feel that it’s great that Christ was born, but had he not gone to the cross and rose again from the dead, he would just have been another kid born! Now I know that’s an oversimplification of the story, but still!!!
However, somehow in the midst of wanting to celebrate this “holiday” it came down to more so being about his awesomely cute outfit, candy, fake tattoos, stickers, coloring Easter eggs (and finding them) and taking insanely handsome photos with other people in awesomely cute outfits (while telling him to smile or get some sort of punishment) and you guessed it—the gifts.
While I will continue to let K know why we celebrate Easter, I also like that we can do the pagan stuff too!!!
Really, I have no clue. For those of you who know me, it’s true, right? Thank ya Jesus for a microwave and my toaster oven! I mean really, even when I think I want to cook something easy, I don’t have half the ingredients in my house. I am either missing some kind of spice or something major like, I don’t know, cooking oil.
It baffles me that I am almost 40 years old and I don’t have a clue about how to cook. Yes, I can follow directions, and yes, I can read the instructions, but seriously, it just doesn’t happen! I see these young people whipping up major meals that look wonderful and here I am, clueless! Even having said this, I do have to admit that sadly, it isn’t something that I am passionate about learning to do. It’s one of those things that I am like, “Meh! Well, it’s a good thing I live in a world where processed foods are still around!!!” While I say that I wish I knew how to cook, I make no real attempt to do so!
So, the moral of all this—I blame my mother. If she hadn’t of convinced me that an education was more important that “woman’s work”, then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be inept in the kitchen! Well… that probably isn’t wholly true, but that’s the story ima go with for now, so there!
Make Up, Childbirth, Being Fabulous and Being Ridiculous!!!
I am fabulous. I admit it. I think I am! I really do! This isn’t to sound snotty or arrogant, but really, I think my life is awesome, my kid is awesome, my job is awesome, my parents are awesome, my friends are totally awesome…even my current boyfriend is pretty awesome! So all in all, my life is fabulous… and let’s not forget that I am pretty good looking too! Just sayin’! But let me get to what I really wanna talk about…
After seeing this, I sent this response to her page, “Shoot me now if this is what I am worried about when I am bringing a life into the world. Are we going to be worried about our makeup if something goes wrong in the delivery room? I get it—to each his own. Sorry _________—but this being a priority is preposterous!!! Honestly, ABSURD!!!” Since I have never given birth, I truly don’t know the pain, pressure, joy, and (possible) anxiety that accompanies bringing a child into the world. I have, however, been in the delivery room with 2 family members and 3 friends as they have given birth! It was miraculous, moving, powerful, beautiful, scary, poignant, frightening, emotional, bloody, and truly incredible.
Now while I can admit that my response to her was (possibly) mean and uninformed, I am still appalled by a post like this. Again, to each her own, but WOW! What happens if the baby is breached and you have to be rushed into surgery for an emergency C-section? What if the baby is in distress? Do you really care that you took time to put on mascara and blush when your water broke? Really, is that what your husband/partner cares about? If so, please dump that person. Is that what your family cares about? If so, kick their butts out of your delivery room! Is this what your newborn cares about? Um, really, I think it’s more about your nipple and getting food rather than commenting of your use of waterproof mascara and the correct foundation! I know that babies can see objects about 8-15 inches away quite sharply (include link http://children.webmd.com/guide/newborn-vision). So, maybe YOUR kid is concerned about what you look like.
So now that I have judged and probably alienated those thousands (maybe even millions) of women who do, in fact, worry about these kinds of things. I have to admit, I like to look my best all the times. I RARELY leave the house without makeup on and my hair done! It really has to be an emergency for me to do so! I like to look my best. I know, isn’t this a double standard?! Probably! Actually, certainly it is. I guess it just never occurred to me that if I were to give birth that makeup would be a “step” in the process! I.e.—water breaks—check! Waterproof mascara—check! Remember to time those contractions—check! Awesome foundation for even when I’m pushing this kid out—check! Breathe—check! Go to the hospital after checking my makeup—check!!!
Again, since I haven’t given birth, I don’t know if what mom’s, who are in heavy labor, really want is the PERFECT post delivery picture possible! Don’t they want to “feel” good after pushing their child into the world for 8 or10 or 12 or 14 or 18 or 20 or even 32 hours? I am sure that they do! I know, I know, we want to always look our best. But I still have to go back to this—is this really a priority!? (Hint: it’s a rhetorical question!)
I will shut up now. Since I haven’t ever given birth nor do I ever plan on it, I don’t know…maybe I don’t get it! Clearly…I don’t get it!
PS—if you are a makeup wearin’ durin’ delivery mom, don’t hate me. Just chalk it up to “she just doesn’t know any better”!!! Because really, I don’t!
So K has recently become increasingly aware that he doesn’t have a Daddy! It’s no secret, right? I mean, we talk about how he doesn’t have a Daddy, but he has a Grandpa (whom he ADORES), he has Uncles and really cool dudes in his life who are there for him! I have also made it a point to have African American men in his life (as well as gay, Latino, bi-racial, and the like) so that he sees that our life isn’t black or white but filled with love and color and differences and amazingness. To make sure that it wasn’t just my kid, I took a poll amongst my single friends with kids and we are not alone, so at least that made me feel better. So I can only conclude that his current/recent “daddy envy” is stemming from a desire to have what other children have. He goes to school and sees the dad’s dropping off their kids! He goes to church and sees the same thing. Heck, he hangs out with me and my parents and he knows that Grandpa is Mommy’s daddy! Even “Mommy” has a daddy!!!
When I get the “Why doesn’t he have a daddy?” or “Where’s his daddy?” I just use simple terms for these simple questions. I either take the “well, I am not married” or I tackle it with, “Our family doesn’t have a daddy!” It’s a tough gig explaining it to small children, but if only it were small children asking. It’s strangers at the store, it’s people at his soccer, it’s random people who think he’s cute, come up to us and quickly say, “He must look like his Daddy!” To that, I say, “I don’t know who his Daddy is!” and keep on walking leaving them with their jaw on the floor! I know, I know, sarcasm will get me nowhere, but hey, shut your face stranger person!
So, would I like for my son to have a Dad? Of course I would. Would I like to have someone to help me? HECK yes I would. However, when the right man comes along, then that will be the time. Until that time comes, we will be a family without a Dad and I am ok with that—and I know K will survive!!! I am not obsessed with getting K a dad! I will leave the obsessive “daddy” talk to the three year old and enjoy this ride!!!! And what a ride it’s been so far!!!
For those of you familiar with Miss Frizzle from the Magic School Bus, you know that this is her key phrase to her students when she wants them to step outside their comfort zone. For the first several months that K was here, I rarely let him watch TV. I was so focused on him learning English and making sure that I wasn’t ignoring signs of attachment disorder, that I didn’t want anything to cloud us building our family. We did a lot of music, but hardly any TV. Not only that, people know that I affectionately refer to the TV as the magic box or zombie box. I don’t hate TV, I just know its effect on me, as an adult, so I can only imagine its hypnotic, spellbinding effect on youngsters…but getting back to my point!
So, now, fast forward to being a family for over a year and yes, friends, I allow K to watch TV. It’s a treat for him, but I do allow it! Interestingly enough, what I have found is that I am really interested in the shows I allow him to watch. Not only that, I find it amazing what I have learned since I have become a mother. It isn’t what you would think. Yes, I have learned about being a little more patient. Yes, I have learned about surviving on 2 hours of sleep (as a 38 year old, not as an 18 year old—big difference folks). Yes, I have learned how to cook dinner, do the dishes, start 2 loads of laundry and still play a game with K all at the same time (or close to it). Yes, I have realized that our world is a living piece of musical theatre. Yes I have discovered why mom’s before me ALWAYS talk about their kids—why wouldn’t you? But actually, through watching TV with K, what I have learned goes way beyond the “mom” stuff.
I have learned ALL about Dinosaurs, the intestinal track, how the body heals itself, how best to sound out words, the cycle of water, which dinosaurs are related to “modern” day animals, the difference between an alligator and a crocodile (nope, didn’t know that before), and a whole lot of other fantastical things! But as per my usual, I digress!!! As I was saying, now that I let him watch TV, we only watch approved movies (basically that means movies that I can stand to sit through if necessary) and certain PBS shows about spelling, science, dinosaurs and yes, the Magic School Bus. But this post isn’t supposed to be about the TV or what I let K watch. It’s supposed to be about taking chances, making mistakes and getting messy!
What I have found is that Miss Frizzle is a frackin’ genius—these are truly words to live by. I know that she says this to the kids to inspire them to think outside the box, but as an adult, with a mortgage, I know that I rarely think outside the box. Sure I have tattoos and body piercings. I have been blessed with the opportunity to travel the world (not all of it, but the list is long). I have eaten some shady food. Hell, I have dated some shady men (when you look at it in the simplest terms—all of these things [taking chances, making mistakes, getting messy] could easily fall into the category of my dating life, right?). I have worked in the prison system. I have worked in the music industry. I have worked in academia. I have worked in a hair salon. I have volunteered. I have gone on missions trips. I travelled half way across the world to become a Mama! But really, I wouldn’t say that this is thinking outside the box. I certainly wouldn’t classify those things as taking chance, making mistakes or getting messy (well, maybe some of the men were mistakes, but…)! Clearly, I want to inspire K to do all of these things, but how can I do that if I am not doing any of them?! Or am I!?
Oh, if only I could review all the things in my life that I have done that are indeed those 3 things, but really…when we think about it, what chances (lately) have we taken? What mistakes have we made (and owned them)? When was the last time that we REALLY got messy (yard work, housework, changing blow out diapers and gardening not included)? Now, I am in no way projecting my own life onto you! Believe me, I am preaching to myself. Do I just continue my life as is? Do I try to shift things to make sure that I take chances, make mistakes, AND get messy? Is it enough to just take chances? How about if I just make mistakes? Hmmmm… Getting messy shouldn’t be too hard, right? Do I frown upon people who live in this cycle? Do I automatically call them frivolous and silly or flaky? Am I just jealous? Awwwww…if only I had the answers!
So the moral is—let’s take chances, make mistakes, get messy!!! Ok?! Ok!!!
When I think about how I built my family, I love sharing the story! I love being able to share my story with others! I am passionate about adoption. I am passionate about the orphan crisis. I am passionate about love. I am passionate about so many things. Recently I had the opportunity to share my story on “film” so to speak! I can’t talk about that just yet, but what that experience did was remind me that we are all on our own path. We are all on this journey called life! It’s easy for us (whoever the “us” is) to look at someone else and say, “Wow, I want their life!” Yet, it’s a constant reminder that I don’t know what other people are going through. People don’t know my struggles or insecurities. I don’t know theirs! I don’t want to know theirs. We all have our own thing going on! Yet, when people share something amazing, it can be so easy to “want” their amazing thing!
For example, when I see people who can sing or play a musical instrument, I am a bit jealous. When I see someone who can just “make the switch” in their heads to lose weight, I want that “gene” to just make that happen! I look at a couple who I think looks like the perfect couple and desire to have what they have! Yet, I always have to remind myself, would I be willing to put in the time and energy it takes to learn to play a musical instrument? Eh, probably not. I always have to remind myself, am I willing to pay for a gym membership and work out like they do? Eh, certainly not! I never know what kind of work has to be put into a marriage for it to be awesome! So there you have it. On the surface, we are, errrr, I am jealous of what “seems” to be the talent or the skinny or the perfect relationship! I have to repeat to myself that it isn’t always that easy!
So here is my advice to myself (or anyone else who wants to take it for themselves)…Share…don’t compare! I never know what other people are going through! I never know their journey. I will never know how they got to this place! It can be easy to look at the “finished” product and never realize the work that went into it!
1. The fact that there are 143 million children without a parent to kiss them goodnight has made you lose sleep.
2. You realize DNA has nothing to do with love & family.
3. You can’t watch Adoption Stories on TLC without sobbing.
4. You spend your free time surfing blogs about families who’ve experienced the blessing of adoption.
5. It drives you crazy when people ask you about your adopted child’s “real” parents.
6. You’ve taken an airplane half-way around the world with a child you just met.
7. You believe that God has a heart for adoption.
8. You realize that welcoming a child into your heart and family is one of the most important legacies you could ever leave on this earth.
9. You know what the word “Dossier” means and you can actually pronounce it correctly.
10. You’ve welcomed a social worker into the most private parts of your life. 11. You shudder when people say your child is so lucky that you adopted them, knowing full well that you are the blessed one to have him/her in your life.
I joke when I say this to K when he doesn’t get his way, but in the eyes of a 3 year old—when I say no to something, his life truly is so rough!
Case in point—those of you who have had any kind of interaction with me know that I affectionately refer to the TV as the Zombie Box! I really avoid using it as a “baby sitter”. I try very diligently for it to be a “special” thing for him. For about the first 9 months that K was home, we RARELY watched TV. My focus was on us attaching, becoming a family, interacting with each other, getting to know one another and him learning English. Let’s face it; I am a single mom who must work, so that kid had to become fluent pretty fast!
When I shut if off, DefCon 1 ensues (or something close to it), the tears start, the whining starts, and my repeated phrase goes something like this, “Oh I know Baby! Your life is so rough! Mama won’t let you watch another movie! It’s tough being you, isn’t it?! You have 2 choices, you can go in your time out chair and cry it out, or you can go upstairs and get in the bath and cry it out! You choose!” Neither choice is awesome, in his eyes, but hey, it’s a choice.
It’s a tough gig being 3! Thank goodness I survived it! I am sure K will too!
PS—the “your life is so rough” lecture can work for any scenario where I say “no!” just sayin’!
I am ready to admit it. I am honestly ready to shout it from the rooftops. Some of you may already know. Some of you may not. Some of you may not even care! But I have to say it—I am in love.
That’s right! I have fallen in love with Glee!!! I have been a Gleek from the beginning, but now that I am a mother, my passion for it has escalated!!! I have always been a fan of musical theatre. One of my ALL TIME favorite movies is Singin’ in the Rain. I have even taught K most of the lyrics to the Good Morning song from that movie as our Good Morning anthem! It truly bonds us!
But I often hear the argument from people who aren’t into shows like Glee or musical theatre that “life isn’t about breaking out in song!” Well, now that I am a Mama to a 3 year old! THE HECK IT ISN’T! I joke with my friends and co-workers that I am constantly singing and breaking out in song. With a 3 year old in the house, everything is a song. He doesn’t care about lyrics. He doesn’t care about pitch. He doesn’t care if I am off key! He just LOVES that I sing stuff! I sing a made up song when it’s time to take his allergy medicine. I sing a “let’s get in the bath” song. I sing a “it’s time for shoes” song when he’s fighting me on wearing his “slipslops” as opposed to “real” shoes. I even sing a song for when we are about to shut the garage door and he wants to stay outside and play! I sing about going to bed. We have a nap time song. We even have a “we have played long enough at the park” song. No joke! When I say that I sing pretty much everything, I am serious! I don’t know about your household, but Team Williams busts out in song every chance we get!!!
Not sure how you think your day is gonna go when, within the first 2 hours of waking up, you have to change the sheets due to urine. No… it doesn’t end there! You have to change K’s clothes dues to a kah kah incident and you have to change your own clothes due to urine spray from a zany 3 year olds penis. Didn’t look like it would be a promising day, right? That’s a tough wake up/start to the morning. Happy Friggin’ Tuesday!
However, on our way to school, while K is pointing out all the amazing things we see on our way to school/work (police cars, tractors, school buses, delivery trucks, airplanes and the like), I saw a mom walking out of the Motel at the corner of Katella and Glassell with her 3 kids. While I was at the stoplight, I saw her walk into the Chevron to buy her kids breakfast before school. She was holding their hands and they were laughing really hard. It touched me! No, I don’t know her circumstances. No, I don’t know anything about her, but I have seen this same mom several times walking with her kids and I was reminded that even on my worst morning, the morning where I get pee’d on, the morning where my son gets crap all over the place, the morning where the sheets are full of pee and I have to change them and the mattress pad—I am truly blessed.
I am blessed, not with things, but with family and friends who love me. I am blessed to have a son who is awesome in every way (even in his DefCon1 moments). I am blessed to have a community who understands what I am going through as a mom to a black son. I am blessed to have a great job and work with amazing people. I am just so blessed. I just want to live in an attitude of gratitude. Let me NEVER forget whom I have in my life. Let me never forget, that no matter where life takes me, my life is awesome!
So, as many of you know, I have become a stalker of Adoption blogs. Ironically enough, so many people have great advice. Let’s be real, my son will have different needs than a child who was born to you. I am ok with that. I am just so blessed that I live in a world where adoption and talking about it and its effects isn’t taboo! I am so blessed that I live in a day and age where, at my fingertips, are helpful sights and friends who are honest to share their successes and failures (for lack of a better word).
But this post has nothing to do with adoption—I just purloined this from a blog I frequent and…wow!!! It really helped a sister out! I wanted to share! *Note: über Christians, don’t lecture me on “guilt” stuff! Oy Gevalt!!! Love you, but please!*
1. I do not have to feel guilty just because someone else does not like what I do, say, think, or feel.
2. It is O. K. for me to feel angry and to express it in responsible ways. 3. I do not have to assume full responsibility for making decisions, particularly where others share responsibility for making the decision.
4. I have the right to say, “I don’t know.”
5. I have the right to say “No,” without feeling guilty.
6. I have the right to say “I don’t understand,” without feeling stupid.
7. I do not have to apologize or give reasons when I say “No.”
8. I have the right to ask others to do things for me.
9. I have the right to refuse requests which others make of me.
l0. I have the right to tell others when I think they are manipulating, conning or treating me unfairly.
l1. I have the right to refuse additional responsibilities without feeling guilty.
l2. I have the right to tell others when their behavior annoys me.
l3. I do not have to compromise my personal integrity.
l4. I have the right to make mistakes and to be responsible for them; I have the right to be wrong.
l5. I do not have to be liked, admired, or respected by everyone for everything I do.
I know that people are passionate about what they’re passionate about. We are all drawn to different things. Let’s see what’s out there right now—the war, gas prices, the economy, clean water, clean energy, plug in cars, Politics, European union, burning down the trees in the Amazon, having an African American President, etc. Yet, since two of my passions are clean drinking water and the orphan crisis, Ima talk about that for a minute!
I do indeed know that most people are horrified by the statistics of orphans in the world (please be aware that the US has a LARGE orphan crisis!!! Don’t be deceived into thinking that it’s only in third world countries!)!
Please just look at these statistics and ponder! I know not everyone is called to adopt—if you aren’t PLEASE DO NOT! But you can do something! We can ALL do something! Even if it’s just us being made aware!
Every 15 SECONDS, another child becomes an AIDS orphan in Africa
Every DAY 5,760 more children become orphans
Every YEAR 2,102,400 more children become orphans (in Africa alone)
143,000,0002 Orphans in the world today spend an average of 10 years
3 in an orphanage or foster home
Approximately 250,000 children are adopted annually, but…
Every YEAR 14,050,000 children still grow up as orphans and AGE OUT of the system
Every DAY 38,493 children AGE OUT
Every 2.2 SECONDS, another orphan child AGES OUT with no family to belong to and no place to call home
Many of these children accept job offers that ultimately result in their being sold as slaves. Millions of girls are sex slaves today, simply because they were unfortunate enough to grow up as orphans.
Between 1990 and 2000, the number of orphans in Africa rose from 30.9 million to 41.5 million, and those orphaned by AIDS increased from 330,000 to seven million.
884 million people lack access to safe water supplies; approximately one in eight people. 3.575 million people die each year from water-related disease.
Diarrhea remains in the second leading cause of death among children under five globally. Nearly one in five child deaths – about 1.5 million each year – is due to diarrhea. It kills more young children than AIDS, malaria and measles combined.
Let’s get passionate about something other than ourselves! Right? :-)
I was reading a post by a friend of mine and what he was sharing really resonated with me; it practically reached out and screamed “pay attention to me Char!”. He was talking about “the gift of perspective” and within that, he challenged whoever to really think about this—is this stop in life a destination or a bridge? While, his post was about something totally different, it’s always so funny (not ha ha funny, but…) to me that even those couple of phrases, really spoke to me about where my life is at right now.
For those of you who know me, I am a person who can truly compartmentalize the various facets of who I am. I am so many things besides being Char. I am a mom, friend, daughter, co-worker, sister, aunt, and (at times have been known to be) a girlfriend. Clearly, I know that there are a lot more “components” to me than this, but you know… As I was sayin…It is all of these parts of me that I really am trying to “work” on. I want to be the most authentic, best version of myself that I can be. I don’t always achieve “greatness” on a daily basis, but at the end of everyday, I reflect and say, “What do I need to repent for? Who do I need to apologize to? How can I be better tomorrow?”
One of the things that I know that I haven’t been thinking about is—is this place (today, this moment, this month, this relationship, this ________________ ) a bridge or a destination?! Not only that, I haven’t really reflected on past “things” in the same light. Am I supposed to pitch a tent and take a nap “here”? Or is this place where I am supposed to dig deep and put down roots?
I am so glad that I have people in my life who can share, truly, a phrase, that makes me stop in my tracks and compels me take note of something that I really need to examine in my life. I want to live a life that is aware of the destinations and bridges. I want to be a person who knows when to slow down, smell the roses but keep walking over that bridge and someone who needs to take advantage of the destination. Ironically enough, I may only know which is which in hindsight!
A couple of weeks back, we went to a Pre-School reunion and his first (ever) teacher commented on how “weird” his “poops” were (when he was in diapers). Sadly, that same day, we were watching a show on PBS called Dinosaur Train and the theme of the show was “Everybody Poops”. It seemed that on this particular Saturday, I couldn’t escape poop! This double whammy of poop interactions reminded me of just how important poop really is. And like every 3 year old, K is OBSESSED with his poop! He affectionately screams from the bathroom when he poops, asks me to help wash his booty and always let’s me know that he “made a snake” or a “volcano” or whatever!!! When I say obsessed—I ain’t kidding folks! But as I normally do, I digress!!!
Yet, several months’ back, these same kinds of things were swirling through my head because I was concerned that K had come home from Ethiopia with some kind of intestinal thing. It’s a given thing that, ya know, the water isn’t that great in certain parts of the world and you could have a parasite just lurking around!!! And… his poop was HIDEOUS and was never solid (TMI? Probably, but really, I am getting to the point… soon). When I took him to the doctor for a failed allergy thingy (failed because when I called to make the appointment, he was congested and had a runny nose, but once we got there, he was fine), I mentioned my “poop” concerns, so she decided to run some tests to rule out a parasite. Awesome! Win for Mom for remembering the “other” concern I had!
Being a first time mom, I thought, “Oh thank goodness!!! Can’t wait to find out if there is anything ‘wrong’ with his intestinal track” until she handed me 5 vials, a plastic “potty” that sits on the potty itself, and rubber gloves! Um… what kind of tests??? Apparently, I didn’t know that I needed to collect “samples” and “scoop” them into these tiny containers. EGAD! Not only that, they give you these “mini” scoops that are attached to the top of the lid of these “collection” tubes. It’s pretty nasty! And like I have said before, why wasn’t there some sort of class or pamphlet about this before I became a mom? I had to learn about how to talk to my kid about trans-racial issues (which I totally get), but no one told me that I might have to scoop his crap into a vial, keep it in my fridge and then bring it back to the doctor?
Sadly, there is no good way to collect this (literal) crap for the doctor and since I had a morning meeting on the day I was supposed to drop it off, I essentially had to carry it around in my purse for a couple of hours until I could get back to the “lab” to return those samples. Nothing like a crap filled purse to start your day off!
So…what’s the moral of this post? Why would I spend time writing about poop? Nothing really. Sometimes, as parents (as people) we need to do a job that is just strait up shi$%y. We do it. We hate it, but we do it!
Good news was that, no, he didn’t have a parasite. Bad news… my son has just really horrific poop!