Posts Tagged ‘detective work’

It all goes back to your mother.

December 2, 2009

Turns out Freud was right: you can blame everything on your mother.

Last night I was in the bathroom and called out to TMD. ‘Can you come in here and look at something?’

‘Is it your poop?’ she asked, a tired note in her voice.

‘Nope.’ I stood up, turned around, bent over.

‘Your piles?’

‘No. Look.’  I pointed to the backs of my knees. Sure enough – red patches, itchiness, hard skin.  ‘I’ve got fucking eczema.’

I stood up again.  We looked at each other. Her eyes widened.

‘Of course you’ve got fucking eczema! You’ve never had to work a day in your life before the babies came. And now you are washing your hands fifty times a day.’

(It’s true. In between my fingers have gone bright red, extremely itchy, and leathery dry.)

Like a detective, I stepped closer to her and almost got into a two woman huddle.  ‘You’re right. And how fucking itchy my legs have been?  I’ve been taking a bath like every night, and you aren’t supposed to use hot water or soak in long baths with eczema.’  I said, then  turned to run the bath water. Eczema or not, my ass is having my nightly escape from parenthood with hot water and a good read.

‘You remember the “alligator skin” you sometimes get on either side of your nose? Eczema.’  She ticked things off with on her fingers.  ‘And the clown lips you got as a child? Eczema. Fucking hell, Existere.’

I nodded slowly.  ‘And the bumps I got all over my ankles during and after pregnancy? And – oh my god – THAT FUCKING RED SCALY BEARD THING I got in the first trimester?’

We paused, then said together, ‘Eczema.’

For about a week now I’ve been half seriously considering contacting the clinic and saying, ‘I think you should know that one of your sperm donors is creating very itchy babies, and you might want to warn people about this shit.’  TMD now pointed out that she was considering calling the clinic to apologize to the lady who got pregnant with my egg, as I was apparently the cause of the itchy baby shit going around town.

Wow, right?

I’ve never ever had dry skin. I am an oily motherfucker. But it is true, a few times in childhood the sides of my lips got red and thickened and sort of extended my lips, making me look like Jack Nicholson as The Joker. And I do get alligator skin on my face regularly. It just never occured to me that it was eczema.

Um.

Sorry, Snort my boy. (At least with family history perhaps he’s not allergic to shit. I slathered his face and neck in cream constantly – literally constantly – yesterday, and it is looking better. Today I’m not going to put a vest on him, just keep him in his romper babygrow thing, so I can keep unsnapping and coating his chest and tummy as well.)

And, for the record? I tried cream #4 on the backs of my knees, in between my fingers, and in a certain other crack where I developed bad dry skin during the final trimester of pregnancy, and that shit STINGS. Bad. Hardcore. I guess he got his aversion to quality skin care treatments from me as well.

Advertisements