ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES

Parties are obviously different now that we have a kid.  We went to a surprise party on Sunday, but the surprise was blown before we got there.  I wish we knew that beforehand because we had to wake a sleeping toddler in order to make it in time to yell the magic word at the man of honor, but it turned out that precious nap time was disrupted for nothing. 

It is a little easier to attend parties at houses of other toddler owners, but this party was at a house of a gleeful childless couple, so there was much danger for Finn to succumb.  Stairs everywhere, a gate to the street that would not close, thorny bushes, and bottles of medication left out in a haphazard manner.  In other words, one of us had to keep an eye on him constantly.  We would tag team: one of us would socialize while the other would corral the kid like a sheepdog.  Finn loved all the new stuff to explore and wanted to just be free to walk up and down the concrete steps over and over again.  At first he was the only kid there, so I was a little self-conscious of the scream he would emit when I would not let him play with the gardening tools. 

Soon another toddler showed up, a little girl who was one week older than Finn.  It was fascinating to compare a girl child to our boy child.  Of course she did not try to kamikaze the staircase, but instead was calm and social, delighting the party attendees with her verbal prowess.  Finn just wanted to steal her balloon.  Despite the fact that he was younger, she was dwarfed in his shadow.  I felt a little pride that our boy was thriving so completely after being born premature weighing less than 5 pounds.

Finn was just getting over the swine flu a chest cold and his nose was running constantly.  I used to recoil from snot-nosed children and now I had one of my own.  I was following him around with a tissue to try and keeping him from grossing out the other guests, but the green slime was relentless.

Our cue to leave happened earlier than expected when Finn started to have an uncharacteristic break down.  He is usually very good and up for the party challenge, but once he got started on a crying jag this time, there was no consoling him. We quickly bid our adieu and Finn continued to whimper until he fell asleep in the car halfway home.  When I pried him out of the car seat to bring him inside our house, the culprit was immediately suspected:  a bad diaper.  He must have had a tummy ache at the party which culminated in a dramatic filling of the underpants.  Finn does the cutest thing: when he gets hurt, he says: “owie”.  I hate that it means he is injured, but it is the cutest damn thing to hear him say.  Well, he was saying it repeatedly now, which worried me immensely.  I pealed his pants and diaper off to reveal a terrifying site: a red, angry, welting rash on his bum.  It was the second worse diaper rash I have ever seen (the #1 worse rash included bloody skin).  He screamed as we plied the wound with warm towels to clean it.  We gave him some naked time to allow the affected area to breathe.  The most pathetic I have ever seen him was that day, walking around naked, but for one white sock, saying “owie” over and over again while his bum flared red like a baboon.  I kept telling him I was sorry and that I loved him.  He looked at me with big teary eyes and in his limited language mournfully asked: “Yeah?”

Yeah, kid.  Yeah.

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16 Comments on “ALL TOMORROW’S PARTIES”

  1. Anonymous Says:

    Yeah. Definitely. 🙂 Poor sweetheart! I do hope his rear is all better now!

    And aren’t boys just complete dumbarses and daredevils and incompetent baboons compared to girls! No offence to anyone here – just my personal experience with my two. But I totally love it – well, have to, really, because mess, chaos, disorder and child proofing extraordinaire came with the boy. The girl, however, can be the most sullen little minx. It’s classic, really. And here I was dressing them in neutrals and encouraging him to play with dollies and her with cars. Whatever, mummy!

  2. For-Tart Says:

    Poor little guy. I don’t think I have the energy to keep up with small children anymore. Best wishes to you three.

  3. Sarah Says:

    Godsdamned. That’s heartbreaking.

  4. Sharnee Says:

    Oh poor little guy! I’m glad that he managed to survive swine flu but sorry to hear he succumbed to diaper rash (aka: nappy rash). That last paragraph almost made me cry. Little sweetheart. xx

  5. Schuyler Says:

    Poor little babushka! Yeah, kid. Yeah.

  6. Adelnye Says:

    That was such a dear story, even though he’s hurting at the moment. But yeah… I hope the bum’s getting better. ::huggies::

  7. Becky Says:

    It’s the one forlorn white sock that’s the killer. As a chronic rash-sufferer from my first days on earth, I relate to the owie. Hope there are happier more comfy moments soon!

  8. teranika Says:

    This story is just soo damned familiar. We have the girl with the verbal prowess (sort of. No one understands her). We also have the girl with diaper butt (who just last week tried to help by smearing her entire body – head-to-tail – with diaper cream…. Wishing Finn a happy bottom soon.

  9. LJ Says:

    Poor Fin. Poor Cloudy!

  10. DD Says:

    Awwww. I always experienced sympathy pain with the diaper rashes. More now with the girl since the “parts” are much more familiar.

  11. Amanda Says:

    Awwwww. I think my ovaries just grew three sizes.

  12. geekbetty Says:

    Yeah…..

    Happy Mothers Day!

  13. Kim Says:

    oh. my. god.

    I could blow some snot myself right now because of how damn cute Finn is; what a great post.

    Hope his lil’ bum is feeling better!! Awww poor Finn. (But how lucky to have such a loving, cool mama!)

  14. Kim Says:

    OH yeah, hope you had a Happy Mother’s Day!! xoxoxxo

  15. Kristen Says:

    Aww, poor guy. “Yeah?”
    What a sweetie.


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