I read a post about poop a couple of days ago. Mommy found her little guy waving his legs in the air, with his diaper off and a really big log of poop lying beside him. I *really* wish that I could remember where I read it. (Help, anyone?) I laughed so hard I cried. And half of what I was laughing at was a memory of my own experience with toddlers and turds.
My elder daughter wasn't easy to toilet train. We got the pee organized at about the average time, but she didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of sitting on the pot until she pooped. She wasn't particularly regular, she didn't seem to have any feeling that it was about to happen, and there were lots more interesting things to do. The whole process became an issue. She wanted underpants thank you, no more diapers for her! Only, big girl pants do not catch poop. I was reduced to dressing the top of her and leaving pants, socks and shoes off until she did go. Then she had a hissy fit, we cleaned her up and she got dressed the rest of the way. Neither of us was too happy, to say the least.
One morning I was marking essays at the kitchen table, which had a small two piece lavatory off it. The girls were safely enthralled by Mr Dressup, and I was ripping apart some kid's take on King Lear (or whatever) when a small procession appeared in the kitchen doorway heading toward the toilet. At its head was the ED, carrying a large hard log of poop in her cupped hands. Behind her came the YD, toddling along with her big sister's pants held out in front of her. And last came the dog, sniffing hopefully, with tail wagging. The parade disappeared into the bathroom and sounds of splashing and flushing ensued.
I just sat there. Bemused. I might have said 'Remember to wash your hands' in a quavering voice. And then I lost it. I just sat and laughed. I don't think the underpants went down the toilet. That time. I hope they did wash their hands.
At the time it happened, I would not have told anyone the story. Bad Mothering! Unsanitary! And I haven't told the story.
Until now.
My elder daughter wasn't easy to toilet train. We got the pee organized at about the average time, but she didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of sitting on the pot until she pooped. She wasn't particularly regular, she didn't seem to have any feeling that it was about to happen, and there were lots more interesting things to do. The whole process became an issue. She wanted underpants thank you, no more diapers for her! Only, big girl pants do not catch poop. I was reduced to dressing the top of her and leaving pants, socks and shoes off until she did go. Then she had a hissy fit, we cleaned her up and she got dressed the rest of the way. Neither of us was too happy, to say the least.
One morning I was marking essays at the kitchen table, which had a small two piece lavatory off it. The girls were safely enthralled by Mr Dressup, and I was ripping apart some kid's take on King Lear (or whatever) when a small procession appeared in the kitchen doorway heading toward the toilet. At its head was the ED, carrying a large hard log of poop in her cupped hands. Behind her came the YD, toddling along with her big sister's pants held out in front of her. And last came the dog, sniffing hopefully, with tail wagging. The parade disappeared into the bathroom and sounds of splashing and flushing ensued.
I just sat there. Bemused. I might have said 'Remember to wash your hands' in a quavering voice. And then I lost it. I just sat and laughed. I don't think the underpants went down the toilet. That time. I hope they did wash their hands.
At the time it happened, I would not have told anyone the story. Bad Mothering! Unsanitary! And I haven't told the story.
Until now.
I love this place where you can talk and laugh about stuff like this. Over at BlogRhet, we're talking about empowerment. And for me, this is a part of it.
LOL I think every single one of us has a kid and poop story.
ReplyDeleteI agree about the empowerment. I think one thing about feeling a part of something larger, knowing others share, is less wondering, "Oh no what did I do wrong? Nobody else has this happen!"
My kids will probably always manage to surprise me, but just in talking, you learn to anticipate and accept so much more.
For example, at our blogger get-together Saturday Kyla and I were laughing about our kids and the "I'm tired" excuse the 5 year olds rely on to attempt to get out of a chore. We agreed we both said "nap" in reply, which has thus far continued to work for her. I said, "Oh just wait, he'll get savvy to that and then it iwll be a part of his, like his arms, that are tired."
She sent me an email that evening claiming I was a prophet b/c her son did that very thing when she got home.
:)
My youngest was 3 when he was finally fully toilet trained. He poohs at least 4 times a day, sometimes 6. That is just a lot of time spent in the smallest windowless room in my house. And so I stalled.
ReplyDeleteAnd that is MY poo story.
Yours is funnier though.
Here's a pooh story: when my son was a baby still my husband neglected to check my son before we went to bed because "he was probably fine." I wagged my finger at him and told him to go in there because what if "he was covered in shit or something." About 2 secs after he entered the room i hear him exclaim: "Oh my God!!" Sure enough that kid had taken his diaper off, smeared it around, then fell asleep. He was covered in shit as i had predicted. I should open a psychic reading shop or something.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you shared your pooh story, and thanks for letting me share mine!
That was a great story. I'm GLAD you shared it -- it made me laugh!
ReplyDeleteOh my lord, this was great
ReplyDeleteBaaaaahaaaa! I love poo stories. Probably because I have so many and they make me feel more normal....
ReplyDeletei love these stories...it reminds me of how much we all have in common.
ReplyDeleteI think dead goldfish have been flushed with less ceremony :)
ReplyDeleteBad Mothering? Sounds like your kids knew exactly what to do. Poor dog, though... :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the stories. The glory of it all!
ReplyDeleteSage, seriously, I would have got very bad mommy marks for this at the time.
Stacy, Yes! That's what struck me the funniest.
Jen, Lawyer Mama, Christine, Julie -- Yes! We do. And where else would this be a cause for celebration?
We need a husband and poop category, too, I think. Only I might not make it to divorce court if I told mine.
AD, I was ashamed for years that it had taken me so long to get the Princess trained. What saved me from utter despair was that the younger girl did a monkey see, monkey do and trained herself at about the same time big sister was reliable. Since I was using flanelette diapers, I was overjoyed.
ReplyDelete