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ABOUT ME

About me: I'm a 40-something mother to a pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our tween Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler Cam, and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). I'm a freelance graphic designer and writer.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Here's some information you might want to sit on. Or you could sit on Hugh Jackman




I was never one to talk about poo before I had a kid, and I swore I wouldn’t do it after, but you really can’t help it, can you? Especially when you have friends over for a round of Wii and everyone puts down their joysticks to watch the real match: Junior vs. His Large Intestine.

Despite our best efforts (vats of stewed prunes, moon howling, pear juice), Junior just can’t seem to produce anything larger than what might come out of a rodent. In a word: Raisinets®.

So this morning, I took him to his pediatrician, Dr. L.

Depending on the visit, Dr. L. is either charming or churlish. He looks like House; he acts like House. He is more apt to talk about Hugh Jackman’s enviable physique than cater to my paranoid questions (in all fairness, they’re not that paranoid). He asks us every appointment if we like his bright yellow Audi. He doesn’t appear to change his socks.

The funny thing is, he thinks I am crazy. When I asked him whether he thought Junior would be developmentally happier in daycare or at home with a nanny and a playmate (the question came out more like “should I give him his daycare wings and set him free?”), he patted my shoulder and said in all earnestness, “Mrs. Mullet, your son is not a caterpillar.”

Today, Doctor L. listened patiently as I described Junior’s symptoms (a tomato-red face, popped blood vessels, grunting) then told me to sit down.

“Junior has CMD,” he said.

“What’s CMD?”

“It’s pretty serious.”

“What? What is it??”

“Colonic Motility Disorder.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. Junior is extremely constipated. And now they have a fancy name for it.” He waited for me to laugh.

And he waited…

And waited…

I might have laughed had I not had a similar experience with my dermatologist, who told me he couldn’t remove the mole above my eyebrow because I would forever have a permanently raised eyebrow. He warned me I would always looks suspicious, or rather, that would people would feel I was always looking at them suspiciously.

For years I kept the damn mole. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made an appointment and said I would risk the suspiciousness—just please get the damn thing off my face—and he burst out laughing.

He had been kidding.

What’s with all the doctors who think the you’re-dying-just-joking shtick is funny? I’m thinking of starting a petition called “Raisinets® have feelings, too” and bringing the dipshits down.

Mwahahahaha. Are you with me? I swear I won't look at you funny.

(If you want to read more about CDM because you think you might have it—ew—read about it here.)

14 comments:

hmsweaver said...

Our pediatrician recommended Miralax and it works like a charm. Or you can collect those things, bag them up, and call them Raisinets! haha

Frogs in my formula said...

We got the Miralax but I'm scared. Very scared!

Renée aka Mekhismom said...

I hope everything comes out alright for junior. Pun intended of course. I can't believe you kept that mole. Are you a really serious person in real life?

Keely said...

They really need to check doctors for appropriate humor before they leave med school. They're DOCTORS - can't they come up with some kind of test?

Frogs in my formula said...

I swear I am a real person! The dr. scared me to the point where a mole seemed better than looking creepy!

truelance said...

I agree, Miralax works well for an oral OTC medication. Another oldie but a goodie are the pediatric glycerin suppositories that are the usual fare in emergency departments that cater to the children of Mulletville that come in with "CMD". They act quickly, and don't nearly cause as much cramping.

PS. I knew chocolate covered raisins had purpose in our lifetime. There had to be one since they aren't very edible, and your post proves the aversion.

Dto3 said...

Just say no to suppositories. Lest I remind you. . .http://footballballetandbeer.blogspot.com/2008/08/extremes.html

Mary Anna said...

Oh goodie - I just introduced Mitchell to Raininets this weekend (actually, he got them in a birthday party goodie bag and I was all excited!).

I've visited my pedi repeatedly for just the opposite problem. I wish Noah had mini rodent poo! Oh, the joys of motherhood!

P.S., I'm drafting a post of things I never dreamed of saying before I had kids!

Felicia said...

LOL! I'm about to wake up everyone in the house from laughing at this post!

Karen Zemek, author of "My Funny Dad, Harry" said...

Doctors try to be funny but usually aren't.

I tagged you for a bookworm meme at http://karenzemek.blogspot.com/2008/11/bookworm-meme-ive-been-tagged.html Hope you don't mind.

Small Town Mommy said...

Good luck! Since you are giving us a choice, I will take Hugh Jackman. He is a hottie and I find constipation yucky.

Lisa H said...

I like this little part:

Mwahahahaha.

"Butt" really this is no laughing matter for the little one. Hope he is ok now.

If my doctor joked with me, I would probably think about slugging him! I wouldn't do it, but I would think about it!

Petra a.k.a The Wise (*Young*) Mommy said...

Sorry to hear about the CDM, but your doctor sounds hilarious! (In a "it's funny cause he's not MY doctor" kind of way).

And I would like to sit on Hugh Jackman.

Can you set that up for me?

Kelly said...

ugh! i want your medical advice, not your witty humor! you said it best. dipshits.