Go Girl, Go Potty

A couple of weeks ago, my two oldest sons had the opportunity to play football at PacBell park, during halftime of an UFL (http://www.ufl-football.com/) game. Like most games, I had the opportunity to hang out with the daughters of one of the coaches. It allows me to experience what life would be like with a daughter (albeit for only a couple of hours).

As we tailgated, the boys were busy throwing the football and running amuck. Us girls were standing around impatiently waiting to enter the stadium, when my faux daughter suddenly had to use the restroom. I was faced with a parenting conundrum I had yet to experience. Parking lots are not usually equipped with restrooms. In this case, the only choice was a port-a-potty (port-a-potty’s freak me out. I would rather get punched repeatedly in the stomach then be forced to enter one. Actually “using” one would be absolutely out of the question). This is never an issue with my boys. Boys can find a tree, bush (on occasion the side of one’s car) and relive their bladder quickly and effectively. In mere seconds, the crisis is averted and we can move on to non-potty related activities. In this case, I could not send the little girl to a nearby bush. Panicked (yes, panicked. This whole situation was new to me and I had no idea what to do), I sent her to her dad. Surely he had a magic solution that this boy mom had not thought of. That was not the case, he simply pointed to the port-a-potty across the parking lot.

I armed the little girl with everything I could think of.

Baby Wipes: They can clean almost anything
Hand Sanitizer: Self Explanatory
A little Prayer: Considering that my phobia would not allow me to get too close to the port-a-potty, she was going to need all the extra help she could get.

She did the impossible, and survived the port-a-potty (with virtually no help from me). Thank GOD I have little boys. I am positive the stress of the potty alone would do me in.

Note to dads: Using a port-a-potty is cruel and unusual punishment. It is NEVER okay for the penis-challenged!

Look what I found: www.go-girl.com

It's a Boy!!

{The following is an excerpt from my book Surviving 3 Boys. It is a guide to parenting boys, with blog excerpts to keep it fun. Let me know what you think. Your opinion is important to me. Please feel free to Tweet, Facebook, or email this article. The more input the better.}

When I was pregnant with my first child, I could not wait to find out what I was having.

There are several urban legends circulating on the internet that promise to determine the sex of your child before the standard 20 week ultrasound. Some are easy enough, like the Chinese Gender Calendar. It only requires you know the age of the mother at the time of conception, and what month the magic happened. There are others that require a chemistry degree, and an adventurous spirit. Ala the Crystal Draino test. This test involves mixing the mothers urine with Crystal Draino, and observing the concoction until it changes colors (from what I have read, the end result is a smelly, disgusting mess, with inconclusive results). I absolutely do not recommend any test that requires bathroom chemicals, but do recommend you read other peoples accounts of using this method. It is hilarious.

I consulted the Chinese Gender calendar, magic 8 ball, and listened to the random women on the streets who gave their predictions based on the shape of my belly (round and high suggests a boys, and as one women delicately put it, “your fat all over, your having a girl”. She didn’t know I was fat all over before I got pregnant).

I counted down the days to the ultrasound appointment. By the time of the actual appointment we had a full house. My OBGYN was gracious enough to accommodate the crowd, who included my husband, mom, mother in law, and I. We all gazed at the tiny screen, and had the same reaction as the doctor pointed to what was undeniably a penis. “It’s a Boy!” we cheered. My husband, who for the most part is always cool, calm, and collected, raised both of his arms in the air like a ref signaling a touchdown. Both of the new grandparents wiped away tears, and in that moment I knew how lucky my little boy ways.

You confirmed it’s a boy, so now what? Shopping of course! At 20 weeks you’re in your second trimester and still have the energy to do things, like walk (walking during your third trimester takes a bit more effort). Now is the perfect time to shop for your registry. The registry wand possesses powers that can turn any practical mom, into a shopping maniac. Nice to haves, becomes HAVE to haves, and pretty soon your registry is littered with things you’ll never use. I heard a very pregnant woman tell her husband at a department store, “It doesn’t matter what we register for, we are getting it for free”! On the contrary, bad registry items are purchased at the expense of something you would have actually used. Free is also an overstatement. People are only buying you gifts because they know from now on, all your money will be consumed by the little person free-loading in your belly (pity-presents).

Wanting more? Be sure to purchase my book. Coming soon to a store near you.