Author Archives: Christene

My Feet Are Confused

I finally gave in. I know it is January, but it is hot outside, so the boots went on a temporary hiatus. Basically I got tired of coming home a sweaty mess. I went to Mary’s house the other day where we had a lovely picnic in her living room (pictures to come on Wordless Wednesday), and this is what I wore:
Yes, those are capris, and sandals on my feet. Since no one has seen my feet in months I figured I didn’t need a pedicure. I was banking on Mary no analyzing my toes, so I shoved them in the shoes, and went.
Seeing as how it isn’t going to get cold again any time soon, and sandals might stick around for a bit, I got a pedicure today. The place I usually go to was closed when I got there (they are a very tiny salon and the lady closes pretty much whenever she wants). Since this has happened a few times now, I have found a back-up salon. It is bigger and more expensive, but in a pinch it will do.
One of my biggest complaints about my usual spot was that they never had enough colors to pick from. In fact I think I have more nail polishes in my bathroom than they have in their entire establishment. But it has been so long since I have been to a big place I was practically overwhelmed. The lady told me to pick a color and I found myself staring at the wall-size display of every shade imaginable. It took me longer to pick a color than the actual pedicure lasted.
At first I wanted something fun and Springy, but quickly had to remind myself it is not Spring. So, despite the weather, I got something Wintery and broody.

Yes, those are my creepy little feet, making their debut. The color is that of an angry ocean.

And of course with my luck the temperatures will plummet over the next few days and it will be boot season once again.

Don’t Squeeze and Pull

Considering my daughter’s aversion to properly using the toilet, and the pains of potty training, I thought I would get an early start on my son. My goal is to have at least one of them fully potty trained before they turn five. Ducky is two, so this should go well. Ally is almost four, and this has not gone well.

I don’t know a whole lot about male urination, except that they do it standing up. I mean, I have been in the bathroom while it has happened, but usually I would be standing at the sink or counter doing whatever it is I was doing, with a man by the toilet. Just because I was in the same room doesn’t mean I was paying close attention to the process.

I didn’t give it much thought, but figured, how hard could this be? I took my son over to the potty, got him undressed, and decided to show him how it should be done. As it turns out, I know less about male urination than I previously thought. I looked at my son’s tiny penis and was under the impression that for urine to come out, I would have to manipulate it somehow. I positioned it towards the potty, squeezed and pulled, and was met with a loud unearthly shriek. I released and tried again, pinching a bit higher this time. He pushed my hand away and started slapping and screaming at me.

Although I wasn’t paying attention when men have used the bathroom in my presence, I could have sworn there was no screaming involved. Obviously I was doing something wrong and that is now how you get urine out of a penis.

Before traumatizing my son any further and causing him to shudder at the thought of using the bathroom the rest of his life, recalling the time his mother almost castrated him, I decided to look into this a bit.

I went to Google. Not once in my life would I have guessed that I would ever look up “how do men pee?” Aside from the really bizarre things that came up, there are actual instructional videos online for this very reason. I may be the only woman who thought a penis needed to be milked like a cow, but I am not the only mother who doesn’t know how to potty train her son. Apparently you just hold it there. That’s it. Hrm… Tomorrow, if Ducky isn’t too scared, we can try this again.