I Sing The Body Electric

I am questioning my judgment on writing on this topic so I’ll preface this post by noting ‘Only Read If You Are a Parent' and haven’t just eaten.

Many couples freely discuss bodily functions. Not B & I. This is a topic, which for so many reasons was adeptly and skillfully circumvented by us both since the time we met; An unspoken covenant that we would not break. This covenant held strong – we made it through elderly friends, Indian relatives, my father’s daily ‘scientific’ analysis on Tingu’s diaper content and pretty much through the first two years of Tingu’s life without mentioning dirty diaper deeds to each other. Though we shared a brief laugh over Tingu peeing into his ear and gazed with mild interest as one of us walked solemnly to the garage gingerly holding a plastic bag at arm’s distance with a distinctly scrunched nose that indicated a particularly nasty event, often characterized by cutting clothes off the baby, it was never discussed. We held on to the notion that we, refined individuals that we were, had many, many other conversations to explore.

Somewhere around the end of year 2, when T was getting potty trained, the covenant completely and totally fell apart. There was no stopping us and nothing, in respect to the kids(s), was off limits. As veteran parents, we would sit around a morning coffee boasting about who had the most disgusting story, with the winner desperately trying to elude the next diaper change. Given our competitive natures, no one won these epic sessions and we resorted to paper, scissors, rock to select the next Diaper Changer. When B caught on to my PSR strategy, well, then one of us would just hide until Tingu or Hunie was changed. Loudly bemoaning ‘Poor baby, poor baby’ in the hopes of making the other feel bad for shucking their parental duty. Quite honestly, I usually didn’t feel too bad and I don’t think B did either!

This evening there was an episode that inspired this blog. Bathtub, naked babies, post dinner. Unflinchingly, I quickly scoped out the offender and his brother, B came in saw… the scene..and without blinking pitched in. Parental Evolution. B read this while eating a snickers bar. In the words of my three year old, ‘Eeewwww!’…well, at least one of us evolved…

Don’t worry, no pictures on this topic! Just the last few weeks in review (since my computer crash):

The guys thought it soo funny to lock their Mama out of the house:

Enjoying some excellent chuckalee from Mashi S

We love bubbles!

Head-lock hugs and morning baby-dials!