Guest Blogger: Erin B.

Here is an email I recently received from a former student of mine who is now a spicy mama ... among other things. She has always been a writer with voice so I am thrilled to share her writing right here on Hot Mama Sauce. She has one son named Noah and he's a year and a half right now.

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Noah’s a bit young still for anything too exciting, but he’s fast becoming a little conversationalist, still too shy to be a socialite, and he’s got a sense of humor that’s, well –- let’s just say, he’s my son. I don’t think I’ve told you, but perhaps I have, that our Auburn office person has quit, yet again –and I’m up here, stuck in some kind of cellular purgatory for the remainder of…Lord, I don’t think I can take any more of it!

Anyway, Noah had his 18-month check up a week and some change ago. Being stuck up here was actually a bonus on that day –- mom had to take him to the doctor for me, and he was getting shots. Poor little guy, he definitely makes a face that screams “Et tu, mommy?!?”

So, mom gets him there, gets him in the room, gets a hold of his chunky little leggers so they can give him his shots and he starts yelling “Help me! Help me!”

Where in the world my one and a half-year-old learned to yell, "Help me!" is a mystery! The nurses were all shocked “Is he saying ‘help me’?” Very funny, a little heart wrenching, and as always, proof that my son is a little to the left…

(Side note: We found out at that appointment that Noah’s in the 50th percentile in height, 75th in weight, and …are you ready, this is funny… 95th in circumference of his head! We always called him “big-headed, baby Noah”… Apparently we were right.)

I got another one that I witnessed first hand… it’s a testament to how stubborn I am, and to how much more stubborn my son is.

Noah and I were in the living room, and I had the front door open, as I do on many occasions in an effort to cut down on my utility bill. He was standing by the door, face pressed against the screen, screaming “OUT, Mama, OUT!” We’re currently working on circulating the words “please” and “thank you” through my household, but alas, my son absolutely refuses to even think about saying either one of those things.

So here we are, with me saying over and over “If you say please, mommy will take you outside to play” “Say please, Noah” “Noah Michael, you can scream all day, but we’re not going anywhere til you say please,” and him retorting with “OUT!” “PLAY!” “NO!” and my personal favorite “STOP IT!” My limit was at about half an hour of this, when he finally mumbled something that wasn’t remotely close to “please” but was similar enough that I gave up the whole battle and took him out to play.

We weren’t even outside for 30 seconds when I stepped on the sharpest little twig I have ever seen poking out of my yard like a dagger, and I, out of sheer ignorance, say “Oh, piss!” It’s terribly annoying how I can tell Noah for half an hour “Say please. Say please” and get no response, but one time –- one time I say “piss” and he’s wandering around the yard telling it to the bushes, the squirrel, the nice, little, old lady that lives next door… and her dog too! I was so embarrassed. It was terrible!

I don’t know if any of these are of any help to your bloggers, but they were pretty funny happenings in my mommy life… It was worth sharing anyway.
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I don't know ... sounds exciting to me Erin B. Thanks for your contribution. Erin says when life slows down, she may join us as a regular contributor. When should I break it to her that life NEVER slows down ... well, until you die that is.