Inappropriate parenting 101.

People tend to stare at me a lot when I'm in public.

In addition to being depressed, I'm also somewhat paranoid and I figured people were staring because of one of the following reasons:

1) They were thinking, "Dang! Her ass is huge!"
2) They were thinking, "Dang! I really want her purse!"
or
3) They were slack-jawed yokels who stare at everyone. And covet people's purses and say dang a lot.

But today? I was at the market with my daughter and she said, just loud enough for everyone in the entire store to hear, "So I told him, he better watch it or I'll kick him in the penis!"

So I was all like, "True dat!" and I noticed that, um, all the other mom's and dad's were staring at me with their mouths agape. And then I figured out that maybe, just maybe, sometimes people stare at me because my kids say words like penis and vagina and, my personal favorite, douchehole.

Huh.

One kid, hanging on to his mom's arm and totally picking his nose and EATING IT I might add, said, "MOM! SHE SAID PENIS!"

And they all looked at me and sadly shook their heads.

Like penis is a bad word or something!

Before my children were even born I made up my mind that I would not use baby-talk when speaking to them. I spoke to them just like I would speak to any other adult and in turn, when they learned to speak they spoke to me using "grown-up" words. Sure, they sometimes say things like "bromote" instead of "remote" and "bagina" instead of vagina, but they use words correctly in general. When I was teaching them about parts of the body I called them what they were. I didn't see any need to call it a cootcher or whatever, even though I do use that word. A lot.

Our mom, when I was growing up, called male and female parts "wicks". I have no idea why she did this, and as my sister recently said, it traumatized us to the point that we were unable to use candles for most of our lives. She still hasn't forgiven her.

So. I held my head up proudly in front of those parents today and said back to my kid, "You're SO right honey. I would have totally kicked him in the penis too."

Then I took her hand and she took mine. And in the produce aisle, she gave it a little squeeze.

Even if she says penis a lot, she's still a pretty cool kid.

Orlando and Kotex and People, Oh My!

It's been a long time since I've had to use a bathroom designed for more than one person at a time, save those rare times that I'll force myself to use a public restroom (I drink 200 ounces of water a day people! It's hard to hold that much!). My bathrooms at home are obviously designed for one, although every time I step into one, both my children and my husband have something they REALLY NEED TO TELL ME RIGHT THAT SECOND. At my office, we had a bathroom for one. At my "home" office (I'm a subcontractor), there are actually two stalls, but all the women lock the outer door so we can have the whole bathroom to ourselves. You can totally see someone when they are in the potty, even when the door is shut! We had to be discriminatory for privacy reasons.

Anyway, I've moved into a new office in a craptastic building, where the bulk of my work is. This is more like a...um...power plant environment (it's not technically a power plant, but I don't know how else to describe it). So the women's room is not a lovely little one-staller with a potty, a sink, and a vase of fake flowers sitting around. Basically, we're talking about a women's locker room, complete with a shower.

At first it kind of freaked me out. I don't like when others can hear me pee. However, lately I've come to see some of the benefits of this arrangement.

Exhibit A:
Yes. That is Orlando Bloom. Sadly, no, he is not personally in the locker room. However, there is a large poster of him hanging on the side of the main stall.

This? Cracks my stuff up.

Because I was never one to hang posters of famous people in my bedroom as a child, and I'm quite certain my husband would frown on it now as I'm a grown-up and he helps pay the mortgage and whatnot. Once? I had a poster of Johnny Depp in my bedroom. The one that every other girl in America had on her wall in 1989. You know, the one that showed off his tattoo that says, "Betty Sue" or "Betty Jo" or whatever? Yeah. And I would put a Post-It note over his eyes when I changed clothes.

No. I'm not kidding.

Anyway. The ladies I work with apparently enjoy letting Orlando Bloom watch them pee. And it just makes me feel somehow closer to them. Like, "Wow. Now I really have something I can use against you."

Or something.

Exhibit B:

We got magazines! Not just People, but Shape and Fitness and even Real Simple!

These women are not afraid to admit that, by cracky, sometimes it takes some time to get things moving. Why not enjoy some quality reading material while you, um, wait?

Exhibit C:
You guys. I'm not kidding. There are tampons and pads in the women's bathroom. In every single bathroom I've been in on the whole site. A nice little stack of them, in each and every stall.

I'm not going to really sit and think much about why this is. I'm just going to think, "How. Freaking. Cool."

Because yeah. That's pretty cool. I appreciate working for people who appreciate my potential sanitary needs.

The ones in the bathrooms aren't really these brands. They are more of the extremely rough looking, potentially asbestos containing scratchy brands. But hey, they'll do in a pinch. I'm pleased to know they are there just in case my body is all like, "Hey Biznatch, I haven't had a period in like, twelve minutes. I'll just be starting up again now that you have on your nice white pants."

Now. Seriously. Don't you wish you could come and work with me?

Nerd Camp: The final frontier

I work in a city that is populated by a large group of very smart people.

Not everyone here is smart, mind you. The woman who was in the fast lane in front of me this morning tweezing her eyebrows while driving, for example? I think she fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down.

But most people here? Scientists, engineers, doctors of various subjects. Smart folks.

Last summer I worked in this city also. Working for a company that subcontracts means you just kind of go where the wind blows. Last summer it blew me here and although I've been in and out, this is pretty much where my work is going to be.

When researching summer camps, it just made sense to bring my little children to the city that I work in, rather than the city that I live in. I reasoned that if something happened to them I would much rather be five minutes from where they were instead of forty-five minutes. Plus, the camp was very reasonably priced and they get to swim every single freaking day. And they got a free t-shirt! I'm all about the free products!

Anyway, I take them to the first day of camp last year and waiting in the sign-in line with me were children of various sizes and ages.

Wearing glasses.
Wearing Star-Wars t-shirts.
Wearing knee socks with the colored stripes on top.
Carrying sack lunches.
Holding inhalers.
Talking about conjugating verbs.

Behold. We had arrived in nerd Heaven.

My son is more than a little bit of a geek and we're all kind of cool with that. As an example, my son has his adult teeth already and his face is still very small. Of course, this makes his teeth, in particular his front teeth, appear large. I spoke to the dentist who assured me that we have to give him time for his face to grow before we do anything like have braces put on. Cool. But a bully at school informed him that he had "beaver teeth". To which my son replied, "Oh my GOD you are so stupid! Beavers have ORANGE TEETH. Duh."

Did you know beavers have orange teeth? I didn't either. But they do.

He reads the atlas for fun. He loves math and science. He's just a wee-tad awkward. He's the sweetest kid ever, really.

But he? Is a nerd.

I love nerds. I, personally, am a bit of a nerd and enjoy things like reading books about our federal lands and learning which bugs live in my yard (not that I'm going to touch them, but learning about them is cool). I'm legally blind without corrective lenses. I do elaborate studies of social policies for fun. I follow politics and environmental news. I think the best vacations (save Disney World, naturally) are the ones where you learn. A lot.

Within days my son had a huge group of friends who were just like him, including one sweet little boy named Christian who my son proclaimed that Jesus must really love a lot. I would come to pick him up and they would be sitting in the corner working math problems for fun or doing elaborate puzzles that they had personally made up or playing whatever the equivalent of Dungeons and Dragons is to today's kids. They talked about building car engines and dissecting frogs.

They were the sweetest kids ever. No one got in trouble. All the kids were polite and courteous and appropriate. It was just FUN.

My daughter, who is decidedly NOT a nerd, also had the most fun ever at this camp. Because she was the coolest kid there. By far.

I'm guilty of sometimes worrying about my children's social status. I admit it. No one wants their child to be an outcast. But during the summer time? My kids are totally in their element. And it's awesome.

The geeks shall inherit the earth.

Really.