Missives From The Lost Weekend, Boys Without BlogHer 2009

by anna on July 29, 2009

This is swag I didn't have to elbow a baby to get. I did have to push one out my vajayjay though, kinda. Roses from Mr. Right-Click waiting for me in my room at BlogHer2009.

Day One:

“Mommy? Who is this ‘Mommy’ person of whom you speak?”

Day Two:

“Mommy Car Choo? Mommy Car Choo.”

Day Three:

Mini Wants His Mommy

To: anna@abdpbt View definition in a new window.com
From: Mr. Right-Click
Subject: Mini wants his mommy

Hon,

Mini has done pretty well with you being gone. He asks for you and I explain you went bye bye but are coming back on a plane. He will look a bit mystified but move on in about a minute.

But today at My Gym the impact of you being gone really hit him. From the moment he got there until story time, he needed attention from the female instructor. He followed her around asking for her to lift him up, etc. It was sad but he ended up having a good time. Abby’s parents, one other dad, and I all went to McDonald’s afterwards. He had a big breakfast, too, and then a big lunch. He went down at 1:00 pm and is ready for your return.

I hope you are having a good time and it sounds like you are. I love you and am so proud of you.

Love,
Mr. Right-Click

[Later that same day]

To: anna@abdpbt View definition in a new window.com
From: Mr. Right-Click
Subject: Reverse Googling

Honey,

Just wanted to let you know when I saw how you redacted the card posted today on your site of your friend I noticed the address was left on there. So I just plugged that into google and reverse looked it up and this is what I got:

[Redacted for the benefit of Nancy W. Kappes, Paralegal]

I called a left a bunch of crank messages for your friend. No, just kidding. FYI.

Anyway, I am sorry my last email made you sad. But I was getting the impression you were feeling like Mini did not care you were gone. He cares. But you have raised a self confident little man. He is a strong boy. He is sad you are gone but every time I talk about you he lights up. When he hears your voice he lights up. He loved seeing you on the computer. You will give him tons of snuggles tomorrow and all of this just makes us a stronger family. I love you and can’t wait to hear all the details of your time in the City of Big Shoulders.

Love,
Mr. Right-Click

Day Three:

Armageddon Strikes

to: anna@abdpbt View definition in a new window.com
from: Mr. Right-Click
Subject: a report from the homefront

Dear Honey,

Well, Mini really let me have it tonight.

First, there was the traditional sticky, stinky poo while he was playing choo. Of course it was tough to tear him away from his work at the train table, so I had to let him stew in it for a while. Fortunately, this was around 6 pm, right before bath time, so the timing was OK, even if it was his second fecal-material-in-the-pants parade of the day. The first time, by the way, arrived conveniently right after I had ordered his breakfast at Carrows.

Fortunately, you had restocked the car with ample diapers and wipes, because in order to get him clean after that first poop, I had to go through at least 15 wipes to dislodge the crust from his butt cheeks. But we got back into the restaurant just in time for him to down his pancakes, bacon, cheese off of his eggs, and a whole lot of hash browns.

All of this reemerged tonight, by the way (see above).

So by 6 pm, he really needed his bath. We went into the bathroom, and Mini proceeded to pee all over the bath mat and the floor. It’s odd, because he used to have the good manners to wait until he got into the tub before peeing everywhere, but for the last three nights, the mere sound of water heating up leads to streaming yellow, much to Mini’s own delight.

While he was frolicking in the tub, I busied myself by mopping up his pee, and this amused him as he looked askance at my urinary diligence. The mac and cheese I had made for him (read: “microwaved”) was waiting at just the right temperature for him by the time we had completed the bath and I had frosted his anus with Butt Paste and diapered him up after the fact. Still, he claimed it was “too har,” even if it was just right. He ate like a made man, and I was a bit surprised considering he had already eaten three leftover McNuggets, his first stick of beef jerky (compliments of Mom’s care package; he loved the two balls, by the way, and of course the stickers) and some cinnamon gum care of Dadah’s idiocy.

He napped today for 3 1/2 hours so I knew it was going to be the Battle of the Bulge to get the little man down at his normal bedtime of 7:30. I put him down and rocked myself in the glider, telling him about the most famous TV “Rawrs” of all time: Dino from The Flinstones, Ed, the talking horse, Ben from BJ and the Bear, and on and on.

Eventually, I left. This didn’t go over well.

I was thinking about letting him cry it out for at least a few minutes, but then I caved. I decided to go in. And it was the Fourth of July right out of his mouth before I even reached him. It was still light out and he had opened up the blinds, and here comes the mac and cheese, and here comes the gum, and jerky, and here comes . . . what the fuck is that?

I managed to save only Bruin Bear. Meow-Meow kitty was already in Triage at that point, since Mini had decided to stick his paw into the contents of the 6 o’clock diaper (I forgot to tell you that). Now, I’m not going to sugar coat things, Lamby-Lamb was hit–but not too bad. The worst case was Buzz Buzz, who got a full load right in the face.

As for Mini, his entire torso was covered. It was not a pretty sight, even for this grizzled veteran of the baby wars. So I pulled everything off his bed and tossed it into the hamper. One full episode of Blue’s Clues later, plus a few more stories about animals driving buses while juggling balls on their way to taking a choo, and he was asleep by 8:30.

I used the spray gun at the kitchen sink to get all the vomit off the sheets and friends and then tossed them into the washer and pushed every goddamn button I could find to get the deepest, most extensive cleaning cycle I could get. That cycle should be done in three hours, at least that is what the computer on board told me.

I knew that first night was too good to be true. I gave that little man a kiss and he went right down, didn’t even need me to come in there once. So we’ll just have to wait and see what the rest of tonight holds. I would not be surprised if it’s gonna be a doozy.

Enjoy your room service for breakfast and see you back on the front tomorrow afternoon.

Love, your devoted husband,

Mr. Right-Click

Day Four:

Homecoming

Me: Wait. You used the sprayer from the kitchen sink? Really?

{ 32 comments }

Kerry July 29, 2009 at 5:30 am

That was hysterical.

Although I blanched a little at the kitchen sink part. I guess people panic in battle sometimes.

beth aka confusedhomemaker July 29, 2009 at 6:12 am

Sounds like everyone survived, although the kitchen may have needed a serious cleaning after using a sprayer on sheets. But hey learning on the spot is part of parenting.

anna July 29, 2009 at 6:14 am

@Kerry He actually was wondering why I thought that was problematic. There are differences between “Mommy parenting” and “Daddy parenting” I guess.

eliz July 29, 2009 at 6:58 am

OMG, it makes me want to come over and scrub your kitchen sink.

anna July 29, 2009 at 7:18 am

Mr. Right-Click: “Well, it’s all food, right?:
Me: “Uh . . . and stomach acid . . .”
Mr. Right-Click: “Well, what would you have done? Thrown it directly in the wash?”
Me: “Trashcan?”

Mr. Right-Click July 29, 2009 at 7:31 am

Really? That is what you all are going to concentrate on? That I used the sprayer to get the food off the sheets and stuffed animals. It was either that or into the garbage. It was 100 degrees out and about 145 in our garage. No way was I going to put vomit into a pale and have it bake overnight. I did not panic. I made a tactical decision to spray-scrape the vomit off the victims and into the disposal. Ample water and soap was used as my own kind of pre-soak. Everything came out of the wash like new, the garage did not reek of cooked puke and the sink sparkled–**ting**-because I gave it a once over after I used it as a barf-removal/disposal tool. Considering all the moving parts I think I did alright.

anna July 29, 2009 at 7:33 am

Honey, don’t get you’re feelings hurt! We’re just enjoying your story. And yes, you DID do a great job!

Snakey July 29, 2009 at 7:36 am

Bravo! Vomit stories are rarely this entertaining.

anna July 29, 2009 at 7:39 am

I am laughing at the “tactical decision” part, honey. :)

Mr. Right-Click July 29, 2009 at 7:43 am

I am no hero. Mini and Meow Meow and Buzz Buzz…they were the real heroes. I was just doing my job. I would do it again in a heartbeat. It all happened so fast…it was like Black Hawk Down meets Animal House…oh the flashbacks…the price we pay…

anna July 29, 2009 at 7:44 am

lol

Kerry July 29, 2009 at 7:47 am

Dude. We’re not judging. We’re just mostly making ourselves feel superior by mocking you. Don’t take it personally.

Plus, your emails were really charming. We have to mock you, or else you’d be annoyingly perfect, and we’d have to hate Anna for her hair, her teeth, AND her perfect husband.

Mr. Right-Click July 29, 2009 at 7:54 am

Oh, I see. I had no idea these things were so complicated. Wait…yes I did. Ok…mock away.

weezy July 29, 2009 at 8:25 am

Hey, I thought rinsing them out in the sink was a brill idea! It’s one of the easiest things to re-sterilize afterwards.

jenni July 29, 2009 at 9:51 am

lmao, Mr. Right Click! And, Ana, I’d have said the same exact thing.

jenni July 29, 2009 at 9:54 am

That would be “Anna” – missed a key!

Mr. Right-Click July 29, 2009 at 10:39 am

Here is the thing. I don’t equate vomit or things that vomit touches with anything that needs to be sterilized. Vomit is not like poop. Vomit is like food. It’s masticated food. And if it’s coming back up it probably hasn’t been down there too long. So the whole “digestive juices” argument just doesn’t fly people. I would put vomit way down on the list, well below pee, blood, snot, ear wax, boogers, puss, poop and most anything else that comes out of the human form. The problem I am seeing here is that, perhaps, some people view vomit from a more personal perspective and in light of their own experiences of, for instance and just maybe, inducing themselves to vomit at one point or another in their lives. Ok, that is gross. But don’t hate the player (in this case vomit), hate the game (in this case auto-vomitors or memories of auto-vomitors/self/friends who did so in the misguided attempt to fit into those certain pair of jeans in ninth grade or whatever). So while I would never think about cleaning off poo stained stuff in the kitchen sink, vomit is a natural for the disposal. It’s just chewed up food that was sitting in the tummy and needed to be free. So for all of you vomit haters out there stop projecting. Vomit is wholesome, clean, often delicious and nutritious. Putting Mini’s puke into the sink that nite was no different than putting a butchered pig’s head down the disposal or whatever any given diner’s debris might be. Vomit down the disposal is the American way!

Kerry July 29, 2009 at 10:44 am

Laughing…too…hard…to…type…

anna July 29, 2009 at 11:01 am

Spoken like a man. You think there aren’t digestive juices in that shit? Have you ever had morning sickness? Oh yeah, that’s right: no.

I mean, using your argument, poop is just food in a different form. Let’s put that down the kitchen sink!

anna July 29, 2009 at 11:02 am

Oh, and: Love you, honey!

AKD July 29, 2009 at 12:51 pm

First of all, this is hilarious.
Second of all, I feel that I must point that both Right Clicks made grammatical errors in the comment section, which shocked me. Anna making a your/you’re error? I think I’m going to blame the iPhone bc otherwise my world collapses.
Third, the feelings about what is allowed in the kitchen sink are not a male-female thing. I would totally wash off vomit in the kitchen sink and my husband would be horrified. He gets mad when I put the mop water down the sink. I guess this is the point of the laundry sink, but mine is always filled with laundry accoutrements or things that I hid in the laundry room bc they were cluttering up the house.
(I hope my iPhone has not created grammatical/spelling errors in this comment)

anna July 29, 2009 at 1:01 pm

Egads! I made a your/you’re error? It’s the stress, it’s finally getting to me.

Tricia 2 July 29, 2009 at 1:18 pm

(wiping tears from face and ice tea spew from keyboard)

Pee is sterile, so I’d rank that above vomit.

But I hear Mr. Right Click’s argument for his time-urgent tactical decision. I made a similar decision, to put a batch of toddler finger and poster paints down the kitchen sink, and SLL has informed me that the Sink Will NEVER Be the Same.

Yeah. Well, methinks sink better than new carpet. You do know that the label ‘washable’ is to give mommies hope, right?

Denise July 29, 2009 at 1:33 pm

You two are absolutely perfect for each other. I love it! :D

Great writing there, MrRC. Funny as all get out.

AKD July 29, 2009 at 1:33 pm

Tricia2, I think toddler fingers down the disposal might make a bigger mess than the one you were trying to get rid of…

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