It’s been 11 days since I last posted. I even failed to post on Mother’s Day, which I suppose in the Mommy Blog world, is some kind of faux pas.
But I don’t have much to rant, whine and complain about… I’ve been in too good a mood. I had the best Mother’s day gift of all — my son is finally potty trained. (Really, this time).
There have been times in my life when I thought some things would never end. High School. College. Pregnancy. Sleepless nights with the baby. Breastfeeding. And, especially potty training.
No more holding it for six days.
No more pull-up diapers. Or Once Upon A Potty, and Your New Potty, and every other stupid book or video that didn’t help at all.
Cancel that appointment with the Pediatric GI.
I’m not asking why or how (although toy bribery sure helped, no doubt), who cares, it’s done. Just don’t ask me for any potty training advice, I’m the last person you’d want to ask because I sucked at it so bad. I’m just so happy to be done with it I could skip down the street giving flowers to strangers.
I will never, ever, ever miss changing diapers. And with some luck if I ever have grandkids, I can talk them out of letting grandma change the diapers and I will be off duty for life. Woo Hoo.
So, that leaves me with little to blog about, at least that I feel comfortable putting up here in a public forum. I still have that tube in my eye which has mostly fixed things and will be with me for the next 6 months. I’m busy with working with my husband doing housepainting. I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work. I’ve put on a couple of pounds.
Yawn.
When I was a little kid most of my nicknames didn’t stick long. A couple of friends called me Kir, but not many. My mom used to call me Ki or Kira Deara and still does, but she is the only one that uses those.
She also used to call me Little Buttinsky which I thought was cute until I grew up and realized it meant little butt-in-sky.
In fourth grade, because I was such a space cadet, a few kids called me Earth To Kira. I didn’t like that much, although it was accurate. And because I used to fuss about the small things, one obnoxious little boy in 4th and 5th grade called me Ms. Picky Picky.
Years later I was watching an epsiode of Big Brother and I noticed an obnoxious guy on the show who looked just like that little boy who teased me in 4th and 5th grade.
Some people never grow up (he didn’t win, woo hoo, and no I’m not bitter). Anyhow, I digress…
Anyhow, as of the last few weeks, my son has been giving me some nicknames. I’m not sure how I feel about them. One of them is sorta cute. It’s Lappy. I guess because he likes to sit on my lap. the other one I am not to fond of. It’s Salami. I guess it is because it rhymes with Mommy. Mommy - Salami. Ugh.
Of course he has a few nicknames, too, that aren’t any better. Some of which we don’t use anymore, and some have stuck around a while. His name is African and unusual in this country, so most of the old people in the neighborhood can’t pronounce his name right so I just tell them to call him Mr. T.
I don’t think he has any idea who this guy is.
When he was younger we gave him a few names that were transitory. When he was just a few weeks old it was Mr. Bobble Head and when he kept biting it was Mr. Bitey and the inevitable nickname of all babies, Mr. Poopy Pants. Mr. No Sleep, well we still use that one. He still doesn’t sleep much.
There is also Mr. Irrational Exuberance, for when he is manic, and my new favorite, since he is so into dinosaurs, Crankosaur, for for when he is tired and cranky. On occasion I do use my my mother’s old nickname for me, Buttinsky, since he is always in the middle of whatever I am doing. However I will probably do what my mother did and shorten it to Binsky, but before he figures out what it means.
Care to share any especially funny nicknames?
Friday I had the tear duct surgery on my eye. As surgery goes, it was pretty minor, but I’m of the opinion that any kind of surgery is not minor. I have no idea how these people get elective surgeries like nose jobs and boob jobs!
It’s amazing what they can do with the human body these days. I now have a tube in my right eye, running from my top tear duct, down to my bottom tear duct, and making a loop somewhere inside my nose. Kind of like this:
The tube, which you can see about 1/4 inch showing if you have good eyesight, will be removed in several months, creating a new place for my tears to drain, to get around the obstruction. So, I won’t have tears pouring down my face anymore. Kinda cool, kinda gross… if you care to read about it here.
The drag is, I still have tears running down my face. Tomorrow I will call up and find out if I have to wait until the tubes come out to see if this damn thing is going to work. And something happened to my left duct, which is partially blocked, when the surgeon tried to unblock it, or something (who knows, I was knocked out). That’s the eye that I didn’t get the tube put in… and now I have a black eye on that eye.
Now, instead of people looking at me thinking, “Is she crying?” they are looking at me thinking “Is she crying? And who punched her in the eye?”
Yesterday and today my son, for the first time in many months, has had a little pooping-on-the-potty success. I’d gone to the toy store to get some “rewards” and all I can say is, nothing like bribery to get you somewhere. So, today he got his “reward”. It was a mini stuffed animal triceratops and a mini puzzle. He immediately put it next to his stuffed stegosaurus, Stego, and gave it a name.
What else for a triceratops?
Horny.
Yep, Horny the triceratops. Gotta love that one. He’ll be hating that one in about 5 or 6 years.