Have I become a desensitized mom???

For the first two years of Holden's life- any time he would fall down and smack his head on anything, or skin a knee- I would absolutely panic as though it were the end of the world. Eventually, like most parents, I realized that babies and little kids are just built differently than we adults are. They bounce. Literally- they BOUNCE. If I took half the spills they did, half as hard as they do- I'd be in the hospital.I'd be a sobbing boogering mess. Yet, somehow... they may have puffy eyes, but 5 minutes later (usually less) they're back up running around like nothing ever happened.
Now whenever one of my kids takes a little spill- I see other people (usually those without kids) cringe and lunge while I just sit there, because I know (not including serious falls, duh) they are just fine. It's kind of amusing, really- because I've slowly become almost completely desensitized to it. When you haven't been around a lot of kids, or witnessed a lot of falls- it's a totally different experience. A heart-stopping one.
I'm glad to not react like that anymore.
This is a case where desensitization is good. It's beneficial. You won't have a coronary and collapse on the floor from fear that your toddler just broke their face on carpet. I find my stress level has seriously decreased since I figured that shit out. Less stress = good. Less stress = less grays and wrinkles = VERY good.


Look, I'll be the first person to admit to you that I'm not exactly what some might consider "mature."
Getting older is mandatory- but growing up is optional. I still think fart jokes are funny. I still respond to statements at times with a simple: "YOUR FACE!", and I definitely still snort out a "That's what she said" at least once a week. Oh, and more often than not, my mind goes into the gutter. It doesn't matter what it is... if there is a chance it will sound or look even slightly sexual- it will to me. I may even be the first person who notices it. Maturity alert!
There's this statue that I think is supposed to be some kind of flower that is erected (gigglesnort) outside of the hospital where I delivered Holden. I call it the vagina statue- because it straight up looks like labia. I'm not kidding. I don't know how ANYONE can look at that thing and see a flower... I see beef curtains. Giant, bronze, beef curtains.
Considering it is still erected today (gigglegigglesnort), I'm assuming I must be in the minority of people who think so. Damnit.

I have no interest in changing this about myself, either. I can't tell you how many boring situations it has made absolutely hysterical- and if you know me, you know I love to laugh. At everything. Especially myself.

The unfortunate (if you must call it that) side-effect of this gutter-brain is that it spilled over into having kids. They are so sweet; so innocent- but damn if they don't say the dirtiest shit at times. Unintentional? Of course. Hysterical? Abso-fucking-lutely.
To be honest, though, I do feel a little guilty when something flies out of my kids mouth and instantly I think "diiiiirttyyyyyy"- but let's be serious- sometimes it can't be helped. By sometimes I mean nearly all the time. Don't judge. I NEVER thought I would become desensitized to this, because I've been like this for as long as my tired brain can remember. Kid head-bonking only took 2 years to get rid of. How long would over 20 years of perverto-brain take to get rid of?

Perhaps all it took was Kindergarten. After the first call home being about a "fight"- and a second call home being about Holden telling the teacher his "pecker felt like it was dipped in hot lava", and then him, with all of his weirdness, being recommended for the gifted program but proceeding to pee straight up and having to acquire a change of clothes from the nurse...
Maybe it has all made me numb. Or maybe it's that my head is filled with snot- but it seems I feel nothing anymore. I am immune to his shenanigans! I have turned a blind eye!
And it MUST STOP...

...Because when I sent this photo that Holden drew depicting the step by step process of cooking a turkey (an assignment for class)- they found it weirdly hilarious for a far different reason than I. For shame.

I will now show you this drawing one step at a time.

Step one (as told to me by Holden): Get the turkey

Awwww, look! They're smiling and holding hands! How sweet!

Step two: "Kill the Turkey"

This photo is the reason I shared it with friends.
I have never once told the child that in order to get a turkey on the
table for Thanksgiving, that you need to cut off their head-
but here it is, headless. Eye closed. One foot detached.
Poor turkey. I'm sorry I laughed until I nearly wet myself at you.

Step 3: Cook the turkey

Obviously... when you cook a turkey- you just cook one giant leg.

 In a...microwave

Everything looks great so far, right? The kid has it pretty spot on even if I have no damn idea where he learned to hack a turkey's head and feet off before cooking. I'm just glad he didn't draw the de-feathering.

And hey, that turkey is really cute! If you can get past the morbid dead-head photo... it's actually pretty funny. I laughed a LOT- and I thought "Hey, others will laugh at this too! He goes from holding that turkey's wing to hacking its head off! LOLZ!"

Now I am going to show you the part that my possibly desensitized brain glossed right on over. I mean, to me... this was harmless. It showed Holden sitting behind a table with a plate and the turkey leg on it. And then him with an empty bone from a turkey leg because he DID eat it. What a smart cookie! He did his assignment SO perfectly! What a proud mommy moment for me!

And then my friends responded

"Umm... is it just me, or are steps 4 and 5....."

Yep. Those are bones alright. Bone-ERS!!!!

I had to look back at the photo three times just to be able to pick up on what they were seeing. Seriously! 

I DIDN'T EVEN SEE THE OBVIOUS LIKENESS TO PEEN! 

Pervy-brain, you have failed me! 

And what did his teacher have to say about this... masterpiece? 

Yeah... I'm so sure she wrote that with a straight face.

Can we hope my natural immature pervy-brain kicks back into action now so that the next time this situation... arises.... I can at least be prepared for it and not be completely horrified? That'd be great.