Scooby Porn & Hef's Mom

My youngest son, Rhett, worries me.

He is charming, almost to a fault, handsome as hell, in love with his own penis, and today, I confirmed, the female form.

He is currently taking swimming lessons and as he is three, I take him into the women's change room to get him ready.  However, I think today may have been the end of that.  I say this because I practically had to put him in some sort of illegal hold to keep him from ogling a woman in the room who was changing.  Some of you are thinking I need to get the stick out of my ass and accept his natural curiousity.  However, I think he's past curious.

It was about a year ago when his penis fixation was at it's highest point.  Check out Do You Have a Penis?;  I think this will provide you with some valuable background information.  Anyway, he's now less concerned with who has a penis and who doesn't and has settled into an easy acceptance of his own good fortune of having one.

Case in point, last week I was working in the dining room.  He and I were the only ones home and he was watching TV in the living room.  I needed a Kleenex and went into the living room to get one.   Instead of finding Kleenex I found Rhett, underwear down, leisurely 'enjoying' himself whilst watching Scooby Doo.  He was unconcerned.  When he realized I noticed what he was doing he broke out into what could almost be described as a sly smile.

I'm all for healthy sexuality and didn't want to make him uncomfortable but did suggest that he move to his bedroom.  His response? "No.  I like it here."  Okay then.  I guess who's to argue?  When you're 3 1/2 and have the good fortune of being a boy with a penis and you can hang out and watch Scooby  Doo and 'explore' said penis, then why not?  He did have the room to himself... I was clearly in the wrong as I was the intruder.

I don't change in front of him anymore.  That too had gotten past the point of natural curiousity  and his mission to see me in the buff was a little too unsettling.  Although maybe not quite as unsettling as watching one's three and a half year old ogle another woman while she changed.  My other two boys, who are now 16 and 7, would've looked too.  They would've looked and then they would've carried on. 

Rhett was mesmerized by this woman's ass. 

Therefore, I advised Ryan, my husband, that from now on, he will be getting Rhett ready for swimming in the men's change room. 

So that takes care of that.  What it doesn't take care of his adolescence.  He's turning four in May.  Hormones haven't even come into play yet.  I'm 33, soon to be 34.  I currently have a 16 year old and a 14 year old.  Forget 2 a.m. feedings, teenagers will wear you down with their mind games.  And my teenagers, by most standards, are 'good'.  So, in ten years or so, after surviving three other teenagers at that point, I don't know if I'll have any game left.  That, coupled with the fact Rhett already has me wrapped around his little finger means I'm fucked.

So here's what I'm asking:  in the next ten years ago can someone please invent a viable male birth control pill?  Perhaps a condom that can be left on at all times?  A Grape Vodka patch (this, of course, would be a little something for me)...  Any and all other suggestions can be left in the comment section.  Thanking you in advance, I, Penny Lane, mother to a junior Hugh Hefner in the making.

Day 2

In the spirit of Resolutions and such I'm here to report.  Obviously I'm so far sticking with the blogging resolution and I'm not doing horribly with the procrastination issue either.   I'm sorry, I need to digress here for a minute to talk about how much I dislike Queen Latifah.  I attempted to watch the People's Choice awards for about thirty seconds but gave up because she's too much.  She's not funny.  Neither are the Kardashians and why is that one so much taller and bigger than the other two?

Sidetracked. 

Anyway, I did get some laundry done but this is nothing...

Okay, twenty-five minutes later and I'm back.  Where did I go?  Well in the midst of promoting a successful productive life in the day of this modern-day do it all woman, I realized I forgot to pick my daughter up from rehearsal.

Oops.

To be fair it was only five after nine and I was supposed to be there at 9 and we only live about five minutes away.  Yes, I am defensive but also had a good laugh at myself.  She found it funny too.  Eventually.

Heh heh.

Okay, so anyway, I did some laundry.  My son's.  This is because he started cleaning his room the other day and this led to mass dumping of a clothing and other articles in the laundry room.  Clothing we thought was lost for good.  Clothing that likely hasn't fit him for at least two years.  Clean clothing.  As in still folded but because he failed to put it away properly so it eventually ended up on his floor and as such, he's decided to just put it back in the laundry.  Teenage boys are a special gift.

As are teenage girls but at least they are clean.

I got a solid five hours of work done today.  Not bad in between parenting the three year old, the 14 year olds orthodontist appointment, pick ups and drop offs of the six year old and the stupid laundry and making supper.  So I forgot to pick up a kid, big deal!  In all reality, something had to give.

I had to run out to pay a bill too and stopped at the store to buy some dishwasher detergent and picked up some discount Christmas candy too so part of my multitasking included mass consumption of grocery-store brand chocolates.  So basically I'm efficient and pretty...Pretty on the couch stuffing my face full of candy but too lazy/tired to get up off the couch and go get the drink of milk I was desperately craving.

So, all in all, not a bad day.  I'm a bit rambly and scattered I know but deal with it.  This is a much more positive post than the one I was/am contemplating about the capacity of humans, especially family members, to be such complete assholes to one another, but I'll save that for another day.  But seriously, how can some people be so desperately unaware and ignorant?

Ooops.  That was a little slip into Negative Nelly land.  So sorry.

Not.