Sunday, March 28, 2010

Young Boys and Bathrooms

I had dinner this evening with a friend, her husband and their 2 children.  We really had a nice time. I love it when there is a man there to take my son to the bathroom with him.  My friend (whose son is 4) commented that having a boy is great because she can hand off the potty job to her husband.  But what's a single mom to do? Now Ryan is big enough that I don't worry about him falling in, and young enough that I'm not worried about him vandalizing the place (except from playing around and splashing sink water, does that count?) so that means my main worry is from the outside.  I am worried about pedophiles, kidnappers, and (because of a story told to me by a mother when I was a teen) people who cut little boys privates off in bathrooms while their mothers wait outside.  You might think this would make me an overprotective mother who would still take her teen aged son into the ladies room with her.  Not so, rather, I do usually allow my 7 year old son to go into the mens room by himself.  This is only because I have no qualms about invading the mens room .  I am perfectly willing to barge in there if necessary, and have done so on (rare) occasions.  So far there have not been any men in there when I did so, but I am aware that it is a possibility that I may one day feel the need to barge in on some poor man, convinced he is a sicko, because he happened to go in while my son was going #2 and taking for-ever.  But the safety of my child is at stake, and since he has reached the age where he is embarrassed to go in the Ladies room, I reserve that right.  None the less, I am relieved when a male aquaintance (usually a friends husband) takes him with them and saves me the 5 minutes of  pacing, standing guard outside the door, (You won't believe the looks I get) preceded by "Is there anyone in there?", oh and then my favorite-"I didn't hear a flush." Followed by "Oh I forgot!" and another 20 seconds of pacing, usually ending with "Go back and wash your hands-With Soap!"

Which reminds me-What does it take to get a boy to remember to flush?  Ever since he was potty trained, I have found myself flushing for him at least daily.  I have tried charging for it, (we're up to 75 cents a flush- the boy owes me about 2 years allowance) reminders, notes on the mirror and the door, I cannot think of another thing to do.  Are all young boys this way? If it was just urine I could handle that but no, it never is in fact it usually starts because I can smell it from downstairs.  And just when you think it can't get any worse-there's never any evidence of toilet paper usage.  Doesn't that get irritating to the skin?  Or itchy or something?  You wouldn't know from him.  I have bought the special "Kandoo" wipes, (Dried out and thrown away, barely touched) I've even asked him about it, and warned him that it could get itchy or painful, that he could wind up with a rash or an infection-I swear he does not care! Being a boy he doesn't worry about hand washing either.  Well at least he knows for sure there's no BM on his hands.  And don't get me started about not closing the door...even with company in the house!
I think little girls may have it right-"Boys are Yucky"

The Leather Jacket

As this is my first blog I will start by introducing myself. I am Katrina, also occasionally known as Kate and since my last name is Forman I thought it would be cute to spell it with numbers. I think my late husband would laugh, at least I like to think so. Sometimes I think I only remember what I want to about him. He has been gone for nearly 7 years now and sometimes days, even weeks go by with only a passing thought of him. Recently though, as certain incidents have triggered certain things, he has come to mind more and more often and the pain I sometimes shut away in the dark recesses of the dungeon of my brain has too. I am told that this is good for me. That I need to "deal with it" I don't want to "deal with it! It hurts!! But since I have started to clean house and de-clutter my literal dwelling, maybe my mind wants to clean out some of the cobwebs too.

Today my trigger was his old Leather Jacket. He wore it for our first date. He was wearing it for our first kiss, and he wore it a lot the first couple years of our marriage. I remember hugging him and resting my cheek on his chest and smelling that wonderful leather smell that is so masculine and somehow compelling to me.

Yesterday I picked it up from the dry cleaners and left it in the bag on the couch. So today when I got home I took it, along with my other dry cleaning upstairs and hung it in my closet. (by the way I swear the jacket alone weighs a hundred pounds, okay maybe 50..30? well it's really heavy okay!) So I lugged the thing upstairs and I wonder...does it still have the smell? So I removed the plastic and I leaned in real close. Pretty soon I was resting my cheek against it & suddenly I was back in time, and he was hugging me. (I tried to figure out how to wrap the sleeves around myself, but decided that was silly... and hopeless). It felt so good, I didn't want to move. So I didn't... for a few minutes anyway. But pretty soon I convinced myself that I couldn't stay there forever and so I pulled myself away. Just knowing it is there, that I could do that again is so tempting... It kind of scared me.
He has been gone for 7 years and I really have come a long way. Was I reverting? Would I suddenly obsess about this jacket and allow my progress to crumble until I am once again an emotional basket case, wearing his old shirt and sweatpants all the time? Or is it allowing me to process and feel things I should allow myself to feel so I can "deal with" my emotions? How can I find out? Viewing my tears as a good sign, I have decided for now that it is the latter, however I am going to limit my exposure. Just in case.

Two Hours Later (can't you just hear the narrator from SpongeBob?) I have just finished watching a wonderful movie about two amazing women and their husbands were so wonderful I couldn't help but miss mine. So I touched "The Box" on my bookcase, and looked at the cold shiny varnished oak with his name on it. And I went to my closet and wrapped myself in the leather jacket, and rested my cheek on the leather. So now I'm not so sure how this is going to work out, I guess time will tell. And by the way the smell-it's faint but still there!!