You know how sometimes you just click with a person you’ve never met and know very little about? Yeah. That’s me and Mommy, For Real‘s Stephanie. I can’t confidently say that she returns my feelings, but every time I read her work, I love her a little more. I completely identify with her as a woman and as a mother, and her writing is incredible; it’s the perfect mix of deep thoughts and off the hizzy-ness.
Off the hizzy: [his-ee]
adjective
Cool, hip, pleasantly surprising, awesome
Did you go to Sean’s party with fireworks, strippers, and tigers on chains?! It was OFF THE HIZZY!!!
Definition and example provided by Urban Dictionary.
I am honored that she has stooped to my level and provided a fantastic Oversharing story which, by the way, is the first of its kind. Rather than experience the following events first-hand, Stephanie became privy to the details after the fact. As parents, we can appreciate our children’s ability to humiliate us when we’re not even in the same room with them.
Several years ago, when my oldest daughter was 3 ½ and my youngest was just a gleam in my ovaries, we took a family vacation to Mexico. We had pretty high hopes that in addition to the sand-castle building and family frolicking, we’d get some quality adult time. With some (questionable) quality adult beverages. You see- we brought backup. To protect the innocent, I will refer to these “older family member vacation assistants” simply as Grammy and Papa.
One evening, my husband and I were given an incredible gift: our daughter would be having a sleep-over with Grammy and Papa, and we were free to dine alone, sleep late into the morning, and meet up with them the next day. High fives and Hallelujah!
I will spare you the details of our exquisite 15 hours of freedom, to prevent potential jealousy and subsequent hate mail. I will leave it at this: everyone should go to a beach resort without their kids, even for just one day. But, I digress.
When we met up with the grandparents the following day, Grammy regaled me with this story about their evening:
My young daughter, along with other members of our party, had been experiencing some, ahem, digestive adjustments, during our vacation. I mean, it was Mexico. That evening, Grammy was sitting on the toilet, doing her business, when my daughter barged into the hotel bathroom and informed her that she needed to poop. Immediately. “I can’t hold it Grammy,” she whimpered, “It needs to come out!” Grammy, always the obliging martyr, abandoned her post on the porcelain throne and generously stood by while her granddaughter barreled past her onto the toilet.
Nearly thirty minutes later (I have been assured that this is not an exaggeration) my daughter continued to sit on the toilet, swinging her legs during her leisurely defecation. Grammy stood hopelessly nearby, her undergarments pooling around her ankles, having not even been afforded the dignity of wiping herself before the young crap machine sat down.
My daughter stared up at her grandmother, all the while producing what I can only imagine was a grotesque amount of human waste. “Grammy,” she began slowly. “You have a furry bottom.” She continued her pontifications, stating, “Mommy also has a furry bottom, but yours is much, much furrier.”
I am unclear as to how Grammy maintained her composure during these detailed observations, particularly when she was in such a tragic state of partial undress, and likely rather uncomfortable after her aborted bathroom endeavor.
When I heard this story, after recovering from hysterical laughter, my first thought was, “Well, at least my regular bikini waxes are worth something- the difference in the spectrum of “furriness” was not lost on my preschooler!” Grammy, however, has subsequently began to practice the “60 year old bikini wax” before going on vacation. This practice consists of, in her words, “A pair of scissors and a pile of pubic hair.” Hopefully next time, her granddaughter will be more complimentary when referring to her well-groomed “bottom.”
Stephanie Sprenger’s furry bottom is a music therapist, writer, blogger, and mother of two young girls. She is also the co-founder of The HerStories Project (http://www.herstoriesproject.com), a website dedicated to finding friendship, staying sane, and reinventing yourself during new motherhood. [Editor's note: FANTASTIC endeavor and site--get clicky with it.] In her spare time, Stephanie is often singing at the piano while being climbed on by a toddler, or typing frantically while swigging wine or coffee, depending on the time of day. Her blog is Mommy, for Real (http://www.stephaniesprenger.com) and you can find her spewing parental angst on FB here: (http://www.facebook.com/mommyforreal)
Hey you, wanna submit your Oversharing tale to the Oversharing: I Ain’t Scarrred series?! Click HERE and make it happen, cap’n!
