“Did you deploy the poo pockets?” and other things I never thought I’d say

Growing up, I was brought up that things were called by their real name. That’s right, my mom didn’t let me call it a cookie and he didn't have a worm, or a winkie, or whatever other names you may call it. This was partially due to the fact that, in her head, should the incident ever arise and I were sexually molested or anything of that nature, she didn't want to be confused by me saying, “he broke my cookie.”

Yep, my mom is the upfront kind of mom and she brought up an upfront kind of daughter and as I grew up, I would get annoyed over silly things like teenagers who would say, “siesa” instead of “sis” or “gross” or would called medicine, “mooti” because that’s what their moms would call it, when they were little. I would cringe at “baby-talk” and words like “poopie.”

But then I had a kid.

I was determined not to “baby-talk,” I mean what is the use? Teaching them to talk twice?

And I repeat, but then… I had a kid!

Did you deploy the poo pockets?

My husband is pro at creating strange phrases in this household – after all, I just live here and am often referred to as “megadopulus”- but a few weeks back, he was forced to take full charge of nappy-changing duty- a role that is usually avoided by all costs! I asked a question – which admittedly, seemed normal at first, especially because Axl and I were facing a bad case of Gastro – “have you untucked the poo-pockets?” Yes, those are things! It is the flaps on each side of the nappy, that is your safe-guard at protecting white onesies from becoming… yellow. Darren thought that this was hilarious and has now made it a common phrase, “DEPLOY THE POO POCKETS!”

My cooc-a-loos boo-boos

Oh this is the motherload! As far as pet names go, D and I stick to “babe” and when he is making an inquiry, it usually starts with the aforementioned, “megadopulus!” But that is probably as far as it goes. I think that “cooc-a-loos” originated somewhere from my childhood and I have recently found myself calling Axl my “coocoos” or “cooc-a-loos” but Darren has taken it to the next level and added the boo-boos. This is an upgrade in comparison to the original pet names for Axl such as, “Cyrax” (Mortal Kombat) and let’s not forget “Fat Man Spoon” after the recent comeback of “Fat Man Scoop” in his latest Skrillex rendition. (No, we do not listen to that “music” – 5FM gives us no choice on a Saturday morning!)

Do you have a poo-bum/ Did you make poops?

Once you have a kid, it is pretty clear that EVERYTHING becomes about bodily fluids (much to my Ash’s dismay). As you know, ladies DON’T fart nor do they discuss what it is done in the bathroom… until you have a kid! Please tell me what is the polite (and proper) way of saying poop or poo? Literally, there is nothing! The proper word is defecate – but that sounds soooo violent for such a cute little bum, right? So the phrase remains (and should be said in a high pitched voice) “did you make a poo-bum?!?”

I need “dis”… I don’t need “dis”

This has become a thing in my house, whether it is referring to food, coffee… or the baby. It has basically replaced, “I want” or “I don’t want”. No explanation required, right? You either want it, or you don’t.

He likes it

My dearest husband wasn't brought up with many babies around him. Unlike me, who has a sister, 10 years younger, and a dozen cousins. I have had my fair share of nappy changes, teething meltdowns and hair pulls. I know how to do the rock and the soothing “shhhh” to get a sleepy, refusing-to-sleep-baby, do exactly that… sleep! Darren tries, I mean… he REALLY tries. And then the black-hearted wife has to say, “stop that, D” to which he responds, “he likes it!” When really, he doesn't.

And lastly…
What we discuss over dinner.

Darren and I live 2 separate lives, sadly. As he gets home from work, I have to log in and begin work. I have Wednesday’s and Sunday’s off – but with him competing in the DGL, there isn't much time, to “chat.” Our time to catch-up on the day events, is usually over dinner. He tells me about the stuff at work and what worldly events that I may have missed out on, and I tell him about the coos that Axl made, how he ate, the obscene bodily fluids shared, etc, etc… Normal stuff. Thus recently, at a family dinner, out in public, Darren and I found ourselves discussing the smell, colour and consistency of Axl’s recent nappy change. (We also briefly discussed his circumcision) To be honest, I wouldn't usually think twice of it but it seems we definitely embarrassed my mother-in-law, who continuously apologised to the waitress delivering drinks. Sigh… I am sorry.

So – if you feel bad about the “baby” and well, “potty” talk? Don’t stress! I believe it’s not only a right but a duty to have these sort of stories, kind of like when they bring their first crush home, you show those chubby baby pictures!