Dr. Mom

This was originally written by Cathy back in June 2006. But it remains true today...except that Will's now out of diapers, thank goodness!

Every family has their own vernacular. You say "pee-pee," and we say "tee-tee." You say passy, and we say binky. In our family, any injury no matter the size or scale is an "ouchie." And, one of the first lessons learned in the "Dr. Mom School of Medicine" is that in almost all cases, a band-aid cures all ouchies…especially if you are my third child, Will. Not only does Will need band-aids for all his own ailments, but you can bet that if anyone else in the house needs some medical attention, Will needs a band-aid too.

After doling out numerous band-aids earlier this week, it was with no surprise that I found Will coming to me with, "Mom, I have an ouchie." Trying to be a sweet and sympathetic mother, I asked him about his injury with (almost) genuine concern. He looked at me with such seriousness and said, "I have an ouchie on my penuth." I said, "Oh, I'm so sorry sweetie," to which he replied, "I need a band-aid." I tried to explain to him that band-aids don't really belong on our penuth, but he didn't buy it. Then I thought, this is really all about the band-aid. So, I offered to put a band-aid on his knee, like I did for his little brother, Sam. “No mommy, on my penuth.” “How about a band-aid on your big toe like Jack?” I asked. “No mommy, on my penuth.” “I know...we'll put one on your forehead...you will look so tough!” With little fists clenched at his sides and in his loudest angry voice I got "NO MOMMY, ON MY PENUTH!"

I begin to think..maybe he really has an ouchie. “Ok, sweetie, let's go look at your ouchie.” Now, with 3 little boys in the house and 4+ years of little-boy diapering experience, I feel pretty confident in my abilities to diagnose this problem. I get him on the changing table, pardon me, examination table, to have a look-see. I start to think, you know, there is so much pulling, poking, pointing and playing with that poor thing, maybe he did hurt himself. Goodness knows it should be plenty chapped just from the constant amount of sand it is exposed to after hours in the sandbox. Really, I should and need to be more sympathetic to the plight of the penuth. So, upon closer examination I find....nothing. Not even one red dot, not a scrape, scratch, bug-bite, nothing.

“Willie,” I say, “where does it hurt?” “On my penuth,” he replies...of course, silly mommy should know that. At this point, I'm not sure what to do. We all know that the adhesive on a child's band-aid isn't that strong, but still....ouch. I think he really will have an ouchie after applying and then removing the "cure." So, I decide this is a teachable moment. I will put the band-aid on his penuth, and when he takes it off, maybe he will realize, hey that didn't feel so great...I don't want any more band-aids on my penuth. Think again. When asked what kind of band-aid he wants (because we all know, Sponge-Bob is for scraped knees, Incredibles is for fingers and toes, and Princess is for anytime we want to annoy our sister by choosing her band-aids) he, of course, picks a bright red Dora band-aid. I'm not sure what the people at Nickelodeon would think knowing that penuth ouchies are what Dora band-aids are for, but I gently wrap it around the injured site. Well, I haven't seen his face light up like that since Christmas morning. He sits and examines his injury with a huge smile beaming across his little face. “Ok,” I say to myself, “he really did need that band-aid.” As I begin to put his diaper back on he quickly says "No mommy, I don't want my diaper." Of course I remind him that he needs to put something on his bottom to which he snaps, "No diaper on Dora," and hops down from the changing table running furiously away to the backyard. I follow and find him, back arched, tummy thrust forward, prancing through the yard like a peacock with his bright red penuth....

What I thought was a continuing education lesson in first-aid from the “Dr. Mom School of Medicine” actually turned out to be a refresher course in the psychiatry rotation. Men, always obsessed with their manhood, even at 2 1/2, will do whatever they can to draw attention to it...even making poor Dora their accomplice, and feigning injury to their poor, little penuth.