"I Have Chlamydia" and Other Reasons I "Love" Jon Stewart

I am a horrible less than perfect mediocre mother. 

I love my kids. I really, really, really do!  I love them more than air.  I love them to the moon and back.

You know what else I love?

Alone time. Gloriously peaceful, quiet, alone time.

I love to pour myself a glass of wine beverage and sneak into my bedroom to watch my television crush, Jon Stewart.  I DVR his show since I cannot possibly stay up past 10:07 P.M. to watch it in real time.

Over the years Jon and I have developed quite a relationship.  Jon expects nothing from me and makes me laugh at the absurdity around me.  He keeps me up to date on all the "news" I need for one day, and I can fast-forward him if he starts to annoy me. It's truly the perfect relationship.

The other night while squirreled away watching Jon, my sweet 9 year old son came into the room.  He snuggled up with me and I melted.  How many more years do I have with my sweet boy wanting to cuddle?  On the other hand, Jon was making some pretty pee your pants funny astute observations about the Mayan calendar and it's relationship with North Korea.

In a moment of parenting weakness, I decided I could cuddle with my son AND watch Jon.  Simultaneously.

Certainly this is a rookie mistake, and I should know better.  I should. I didn't.

Shortly after making this lazy parenting decision, Jon proclaimed jokingly, "I have chlamydia!"

The audience laughed, and my son asked, "What's chlamydia?"

I took a breath, and I simply told my son it is a disease.

In the next breath, my sweet son loudly blurts out, "I HAVE CHLAMYDIA!"
He then laughs hysterically a lot like Jon Stewart had just done.  

I immediately know this is an exclamation he will make on the playground, in the classroom, and most definitely in Sunday school all in an attempt to generate laughter from his equally clueless peers.

That's the night I got to talk with my son about sexually transmitted diseases.

Thanks, Jon. Thank you so much for providing me with that unscripted, awkward, parenting moment.

Jon, I don't want you hanging around my kids anymore, but in fairness, I don't think my son ever wants to watch your show again!

And You Think You Have Problems

You are feeling overwhelmed by your job, your kids are driving you up a wall, the bills are mounting, your free-time is dwindling, and your cat continues to puke hairballs like it's his job.  You just want to shut all the blinds, curl up in the fetal position and have a pity party for yourself.  

Then you read this article about the pain and suffering some people have to endure :
Woman's Non-Stop Orgasm Too Much of a Good Thing?

Of all the lousy crap that happens to you in the course of a week, why couldn't you have the problem of non-stop orgasms?  Wouldn't that make your job more interesting?  It would add some excitement to bill paying.  Heck, even cleaning up cat vomit might be arousing less awful.

I suppose it could get annoying, but I imagine there are several of us willing to be inflicted with this disease for a couple hours days just to confirm that it's an actual problem.

Is this how men feel all the time?  Poor men.  Oh, how they struggle with this in silence!
Strike that.  Men do not suffer in silence.  They struggle loudly and unapologetically over pretty much any ailment they suffer. My hubby talked endlessly for days about a splinter he had in his finger. The splinter was removed by ME, but the discussion about the pain and discomfort continued long after the dreaded splinter was removed.

In addition to being amused by a condition that sounds enviable, the article got me thinking about career choices.  When I was growing up, I had all sorts of career options.  I could be a journalist, social worker, nurse, artist, biologist, veterinarian, accountant.

I never imagined having Jim's job.
Jim "studies the neuroscience of sexual response, and is currently engaged in studying persistent genital arousal."

I can't swear to it, but I'm pretty sure I once knew a creepy guy in college who used the pick-up line "I'm studying persistent genital arousal."

This is a real job????

I'm thinking the economy isn't as bad as the nightly news suggests.
If you can make a living studying genital arousal then there is hope for this nation's future.

You Call it a Water Park; I Call It A Bio-Hazard Experiment

My family recently returned from an overnight trip to a water park.

I am waiting to see what types of fungi sprout on our feet.

We arrived at the hotel on a Saturday afternoon and immediately made a beeline for the water park. It was a cold, drizzly February day outside, but inside the water park it was a humid 87 degrees. Ripe for growing all sorts of fungal goodness.

The smell of chlorine and the sound of screaming children filled the air.
We spent hours, and hours, and hours frolicking in the lazy river and climbing 10 flights of stairs so we could hurl ourselves down wet and wild slides. Oh what fun we had!

My fun started to wane as an algebra problem formed in my mind. Leave it to math to ruin my day.

Remember the following equation: if a = b; b = c; then c = a ?

Well, then follow this logic:

Daughter takes strand of her own wet hair and places it in her mouth.
Mom looks out across crowded water park full of children.
Mom reflects on how utterly void of children the restrooms seem to be.
Mom realizes (duh!) the water park's lazy river is actually the world's largest urinal.
Mom looks at daughter and knows with absolute certainty that daughter is sucking other children's urine out of her hair.

I suppress the urge to shriek, "Out! Out! Everyone out of here NOW!"
Instead, I look at my tween and calmly say, "Oh, Honey, don't suck your hair. Other kids may be peeing in the water which means your hair is dirty."

My tween looks at me like I am clueless.
She continues to suck on her urine-rich hair.

I throw up in my mouth, but I swallow it (vs. throwing up in the water so my daughter can later suck it up via her hair straws). That's love, people.

How much urine and other bodily fluids can one water park contain before no amount of chlorine can keep the water clear blue and mask the smell? I honestly think they are performing some sort of science experiment!

Meanwhile, hubby approaches coughing and claims the chlorine in the air is burning his eyes and scratching his throat. He continues coughing. My son approaches from another direction. He has slipped and his elbow is bleeding. I am certain this will result in an infection from the mixture of urine and bacteria that must exist on every surface. He will likely lose his arm as a result of the impending infection. On the plus side, it's his left elbow that's injured and he is right handed. I take comfort in this.

Of course, I say none of this to anyone because I don't want to induce panic.
I am, however, happy to be out of the water park petri dish experiment.

My kids cannot wait to go back!

Germ Magnets

There isn't enough hand sanitizer in the world to keep me from getting sick every year around this time. I faithfully subject myself to an annual flu shot in hopes of warding off the inevitable.

I blame my children. My inevitable winter illness rests on their shoulders.

Every single day my children come home from school coated in snot. I'm not even sure the snot is entirely their own. I know my house is slathered in invisible, evil germs all trying to make contact with my fragile immune system.

Their own immune systems are enviable. They coat themselves in germs and neglect any form of personal hygiene. They have a total aversion to proper hand hygiene and on at least one occasion they tried to convince me they were allergic to soap (and cleaning their rooms, but that's another story!)

They literally sit around the house sucking on their own fingers, toes, and hair. Then they delight in touching everything that belongs to me. They touch my face, hair, food, doorknobs, computer, pillows.
They DISGUST me, but I love them so much!

We have a box of kleenex in nearly every room of our house, but do they use them?
Nooooo! Why use a perfectly clean tissue when your dirty shirt sleeve is so convenient?
Or perhaps you can reach for your mother's sleeve? She just loves that!

Is it wrong to greet them each day after school in a hazmat suit?
Is it wrong to want to douce them with antiseptic before hugging them?
Is it wrong to send them away to boarding school until flu season passes?

My children have the grave misfortune of perfect health. Those kids are desperate to be sick! A slight fever leads to ginger ale, an abundance of attention, and a fair dose of sympathy. They crave a virus! If their germs don't kill me, the irony certainly will!

Life is full of injustices. The fact that my children literally cocoon themselves in crud and remain perfectly healthy during the height of flu season while I drown in my own mucus is just one.

Gesundheit!

(A note from the Author: She is just superstitious enough to believe that she is cursing her children with a string of illnesses this winter. Please take a moment to knock on wood. Your spouse's head will work fine.)