A few weeks ago, Ben and I were driving somewhere. He was very upset because he couldn't get a phrase out of his head and it was bothering him like crazy. He had to keep repeating the phrase. He had to keep thinking the phrase. This is part of his OCD.
The phrase was "subdermal hematoma."
Weird, I know. Gotta love OCD.
Ben was so distressed by having to keep thinking about and saying this phrase, I scrambled to find a way to help him. I decided to make up a song. I've always made up songs about everything since my babies were first born. In fact, when Ben was taking piano lessons a couple years ago, the instructor asked me if I sang to Ben as a baby. I said yep, and I still do! She said she could tell because he just understands music, he 'gets' it.
But I digress. So I quickly thought of how to make "subdermal hematoma" into a song- that doesn't rhyme with much. I had to act fast or Ben would end up in meltdown mode. Here's what I came up with:
Ben: Subdermal hematoma
Me: Oh how I love ya
Ben: Subdermal hematoma
Me: You remind me of my mama
Ben Subdermal hematoma
Me: She is in a coma
Ben: Subdermal hematoma
Me: I want to buy her a boa...
Together: C O N S T R I C T O R
Admit it, you love it, right?? Ben though it was so insanely hilarious, he got knocked right out of his meltdown, stressed out, OCD mood. He laughed and laughed, and we sang that song all the way home. Ha. Mama wins. Take that, stupid OCD.
* * *
One night I was making school lunches for the kids for the next day. I was suddenly struck by the intense feeling that my twins needed a Mama Rap in their lunch box. I know, insane. I am about the most un-rappiest person in the world. But I got the sense that the boys needed me to rap. This just came to me:
Yo yo
Yo Mama loves you so
You make the world glow
Just by bein'
in it.....
Peace out. Mama out.
When the boys got their lunchtime rap the next day, they came home from school beaming. It was the cutest thing. They had all their friends read the Mama Rap. Their friends thought it was cool (I know, I'm awesome- 8th graders think I'm cool once in awhile.), and the boys couldn't stop laughing. Anything to brighten up their day.
* * *
WARNING: This next part contains talk about private parts. Sorry, but that's what Mamas have to do sometimes. Especially if you have teenaged boys.
So one of my 13-year-old darlings is having some testicular itching. I know, gross. He keeps having to itch, with gusto, in public, to the extreme embarrassment of his mother. The doctor says it's nothing. Hm, well it is something. Because the kid is being disgusting, scratching himself with great dramatics, everywhere we go. This cannot continue.
I decided to look up ways to alleviate this problem online, with natural products. I read through many descriptions of various itchy symptoms, and ways to treat this. I came upon an article that said tea tree oil can help alleviate this particular brand of itch. I got very excited. I told my boy I would fix his itchy problem! The family looked at me with disdain- "Mama's on a kick again, something crazy for us to try..." I would show them!
I decided to look up ways to alleviate this problem online, with natural products. I read through many descriptions of various itchy symptoms, and ways to treat this. I came upon an article that said tea tree oil can help alleviate this particular brand of itch. I got very excited. I told my boy I would fix his itchy problem! The family looked at me with disdain- "Mama's on a kick again, something crazy for us to try..." I would show them!
So you have to know something about me. I hate the word "testicles." It's just so icky. I also hate anything gross related to that area. Like when Alex was doing karate, he left his protective cup out on the TABLE after his class! EW! Disgusting! People EAT there! Ella was going to touch it, and everything in the room slowed down, like in the movies. I lunged at her to stop her from touching The Grossness, and yelled-
"EW! STOP! THAT'S DADDY'S NASTY PENIS CUP!!!"
The boys still hoot about that. Daddy's nasty penis cup. Well really, why would he put it on the table? Gross.
Anyway, one thing you also need to know is that I've been working on starting up an Etsy shop to sell weighted blankets. I finally decided on the name "Nonah & Bean." When Ben and Jonah were toddlers, Ben used to call Jonah "Nonah," and Jonah called Ben "Bean." So adorable. So the kids know I've been trying to work on this shop, and find the name, etc. My darling with The Itch went into the bathroom with my concoction of tea tree oil mixed with coconut oil, and applied the ointment to The Itch. He came out with a happy, relieved look on his face. He said he didn't itch anymore!
The boys were so excited about my super duper natural fix for Itch, they decided it deserved to bear an official name. They said it should be called "Nonah & Bean's Itchy Testicle Oil." Hm, somehow I don't think that will sell well on Etsy. So all week, Nonah & Bean's Itchy Testicle Oil has been in high demand. "Mom! I need some Itchy Testicle Oil!" at least three times a day. I hate that word.
Finally, I said "Boys. We cannot use that word anymore."
They said fine! How about "Itchy Ball Oil?"
Nope. Not gonna work for me.
They proceeded to name all sorts of 'creative' ways we could describe this particular boy area. I vetoed every one. I told the boys that the name of the oil from now on would be "Itchy Sphere Oil." So there.
The hilarious part is that they really are calling it that. Cracks me up. Look for "Nonah & Bean's Itchy Sphere Oil" coming to an Etsy near you!
My darling with The Itch came home from school the other day, and said that he had gone to the bathroom at school. Another boy in the bathroom exclaimed "What is that AMAZING smell??" My darling smiled secretly to himself. I'm grateful he did not proclaim aloud that that amazing smell was his Itchy Testicle Oil.
The crazy things parenting brings. You have to remember these funny things and laugh when you can. Kids do make life more interesting.
1 comment:
I really, Really, REALLY needed those laughs.
Thank you <3
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