Monday, October 13, 2008

Things I Will Never Understand About Men

I've never been a girlie girl. Not growing up, where despite my attempts at ballet, where I had the grace of a tutued hippo, not now where my idea of full make up is pressed powder, some mascara and some light lipstic. I was a guys girl growing up, and it's only recently, when I became a mom, that I began to have more girl friends than guy friends.

So I would think that I understand men better than most women, and yet? I'm realizing that I really, really don't know anything at all. And now that I have one son and another one arriving only 8 days from now? I'm thinking that I'm going to find out even more regularly how little I know.

Here are the latest things I will never understand about men:

Example #1
How poop can become so entertaining at such a young age. Yesterday, I was playing play-doh with Little Man, and I was playing with the brown play-doh. He promptly decided that my creation was a piece of poop. And then laughed hysterically. Because poop is funny, duh. And even funnier than poop? Is 15 minutes of poop talk until your Maman threatens to throw out all of the brown play-doh, not just in the house, but the entire world's brown play-doh stock.

Example #2
Every woman knows that men are physically unable to hear any sentence that comes out of our mouth, unless they involve "you wanna have sex?", "I'm so drunk right now and I think I forgot to put panties on" and "I grilled you a steak and also, I'm naked." This is nothing any woman who's been within 1,500 feet of a man at any point in her life doesn't already know. But it seems that this sensory inability affects other senses as well. Like take last night. Little Man wakes up at 2:30 in the morning, crying. Natch, make that hysterically sobbing. This is not an unheard of incident in our house, Little Man tends to have bad dreams, he is the child who can no longer go to any restaurant where "happy birthday" is sung, because OMG! The singing! And the clapping! It's freaking frightening. No? That's just my kid? Huh.

Anyway, back to the point. So Little Man? Was crying. It was 2:30 in the morning. Sweetie Pie gets up, because you know what? I'm 37 weeks pregnant with a belly that sticks out front far enough to deserve it's own zip code (and my ass still looks great, thank you very much) and the man weighs 25 pounds less than I do. He can get his freaking ass up. Sweetie Pie comes back to bed two minutes later, and no sound emanates from upstairs. Until right before 5 a.m. where Little Man begins screaming again and this time he says he needs his Mama. I get up and when I get to the bottom of the stairs, this horrible stench hits my nostrils. Despite being half asleep, my brain begins right away praying that I'm not really smelling poop. As I glide gracefully up the stairs grunt all the way up the stairs, the smell keeps strengthening, until I feel like the lack of clean air is putting my unborn child in harm's way.

I bravely make my way to Little Man's room and as he looks at me, I ask the question that I've never thought I'd ever need to ask: "Did you poop yourself?" And even in the dark night, I can see the very distinct nodding of a little blonde head. The underwear goes straight to the trash on the curb, because that ain't getting anywhere near my washing machine. As I begin to clean up my child's poop-smeared bottom, it becomes very clear that a lot of it is dried solid and that my poor child has been made to sleep with diarrea for a few hours.

How can anyone not smell a diarrhea filled pajama pant? I don't care that it's two in the morning and that you're not awake yet, I'd literally smelled landfills that didn't make my eyes water as much as this kid did last night. But when I lividly asked my husband about it the next morning, he said he didn't notice anything. I wonder if he'd notice if I beat him to a pulp with a baseball bat.

Love,

Catwoman.

12 comments:

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

I agree with you. That smell is NOT IGNORABLE!!

Hallie

Burgh Baby said...

Do you want me to swing the baseball bat? I don't want you to hurt yourself in your delicate state, but I will gladly beat him for you.

(heh. I called you "delicate."

the planet of janet said...

so ... how totally odd that one incident has to do with complete obsession with poop and the other with not being able to see it at all.

hmmmm. this sounds like a conspiracy to me.

Emma in Canada said...

Awww poor Little Man, sleeping in poop! That's such a dad like thing.

And remember when you said you missed my comments? Right back at ya! How's that for a hint?

K said...

I hear you about the ballet and not being able to do it looking gracefull, try having the biggest feet in the world, and crying cos i couldnt get the pretty ballet shoes, i had to wear black slip ons boo hoo !! As for the poop, bless little man, but yes beat the sweetie pie up!!

C xx

Karen said...

Here's one for you... we leave on a vacation without our daddy.. the boy goes in the potty next to the mans bedroom,and forgot the flush, and poops before we leave... two weeks go by and we get home and Viola! the poop.. is still sitting in that very potty. For two weeks.
GAH!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd borrow the bat.. but I divorced the loser!

Eternal Sunshine said...

Of course he "didn't smell it" The one who smells it is the one who has to change it. The one who ADMITS to smelling it, that is...

Hate the dried on poo...

Ugh.

Sandi said...

Poor little guy...

Marmarbug said...

Oh you didn't know? Men can't smell things such as poop. Especially at 2:30 in the morning.
You're a nice wife. I would have dropped the poop pants on my hubby. You know to see if he could smell them then!

Becca said...

I'm pretty sure I would have gotten my husbands ass out of bed and watched him clean it up!

Rachel said...

Oh yeah, Chris is the king of the I Didn't Smell Anything game!

Bren said...

Poor Little Man! Hope he'd feeling better now. Been there, done that though. I'm convinced that men fake the cluelessness so they don't have to do as much.