No room for modesty

November 22, 2008

I am by nature a modest person.  Puritanical, really… 

I’m sure every parent says something now and then to their children that they never imagined they’d utter to another human being.  There’s the absurd: “Okay, I’ll stand on my head one more time, but that’s it!  Then you’re getting in your bath.” 

There’s the desperate: “If you let me go back to sleep for five more minutes we’ll have Oreos for breakfast.”  And there’s those tearful utterances of sheer love: “No one on earth has ever cut paper to shreds with such perfection.”

Being an absurd, desperately loving person, statements like these are really not all that out of the ordinary to me.  What blows my mind is when I hear things like this come out of my own mouth: “I’m going to go potty now.  Why don’t you come watch?  You might learn something.” 

After a long weekend of toilet training, I went to work on Monday and out of habit announced to my boss that I had to go potty.  She kindly granted me permission to go. 

The only thing more modesty-busting than potty training a toddler is giving birth.

Nakedness is a very common thing in our house.  Usually it’s the two-year-old who is running gleefully through the house.  My son’s nightly ritual includes an after-the-bath spin around the living room in his birthday suit while hollering, “Naked kid!  Naked kid!” I guess he’s warning the neighbors. 

The neighbors were also notified when I jumped dripping from the shower to rescue my hairdryer and toothbrush from the toilet last week.  “Naked Mama! Naked Mama!” 

I never was one to wander around the house in my skivvies.  But now, I’ll race to the kitchen at the first smell of smoke.  (Note to self: Always unplug the toaster before getting in the shower.)

And let’s be honest, there are moments when raising kids is downright gross.  If you’re not prying secondhand chewing gum from their jaws, you’re picking wax balls out of their ears so they can hear you when you say things like, “Seriously, if you don’t stop tooting at the table, you’re going to have to be excused.”

Early on, parents develop a steely tolerance of all things disgusting.  Babies prime us by being hopelessly adorable while shooting previously undiscovered secretions all over themselves, their clothes, the furniture, and anyone within spitting distance. 

They have no concept of gross, only that they feel a whole lot better once they’ve made their mess. 

My son now understands “gross.”  It is one of his favorite words.  He says it with a big smile while he’s smearing the remains of a poor, tortured fly on the wall.  “Look Mama!  Gross!” 

And where once I’d have run heaving from the room at such a display, I now simply find a paper towel.

Perhaps someday my modesty will return.  I hope so.  I think it is a charming attribute.  But for now, my initiation phase is officially over.  I have been sworn in as a parent, and with it, all modesty is gone. 

I knew it as soon as I uttered the words, “Oh, we’re out of Kleenex.  Here, wipe that on my sweater…. No!  Don’t eat it!  On second thought, good idea…”

This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus November 22, 2008.