Here comes a delicate subject. One for which I will have to choose my words carefully and make full use of various euphemisms to protect the innocent. How shall I start? Let's just say my son is passionately in love with a certain part of his anatomy. Need I say more? Having grown up with only a sister, and having never raised a "normal" son, I am unsure what is typical for the frequency of....communing...with this certain part of a boy's anatomy, but it seems to me that every two seconds I discover Ian busily involved with his "hobby." We are constantly saying "nice hands" when he is in public, and have been very firm in our insistence that he indulge in this behavior only in his room. It takes constant vigilance. When my daughter is home from college, she will come into the family room rolling her eyes and say "Mom, Ian is doing it AGAIN!" As long as he is in his room, that is fine, but he has no compunction about "whipping it out" when he is outside in the backyard. I cringe when I think that he may be giving little old lady neighbors possible heart attacks! Many are the times I have rushed outside yelling "NICE HANDS! PUT YOUR PANTS ON!" I'm sure the neighbors are thrilled.
Last night Ian had a difficult time falling asleep. This happens on a regular basis. He was partying in his room until 1:30 am. My husband went to check on him, and then came in and said "Uh, I may need your help." Ian had removed his sleep pants and diaper so he could have free access to that particularly adored body part, but had also deposited a nice neat pile of poo in the corner of his room (along with a nice sprinkling of urine to complete the effect.) I was half asleep as I trudged downstairs to get the paper towels and cleaning fluid. John had sent Ian into the bathroom where he completed his....activity...while we cleaned up the poo and pee and checked to make sure there weren't any more deposits anywhere else. I sighed heavily. Cleaning up poo is a bother, but what sometimes really upsets me is the fact that I have such intimate knowledge of my son's intimate life. How many mothers of 18-year old boys actually SEE this activity?? Sometimes I think my eyeballs are going to burn out of my head. Oy vey. But this is our life. Ian has no shame or body self-consciousness. In one way this is so dear, innocent and wonderful. But trying to train him to keep his private activities private has been a long, uphill battle.
Ian did finally fall asleep around 2:30 am. Thank God. We can always hope for a sleepy boy tonight.
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