Tag Archives: poop

The Poop Rant

39/365 Everyone Poops

You are two and a half and I cannot say this to you, but I can think it.

We have had several intelligent conversations about what poop is.  We have talked about where it needs to go when it’s time to come out of your body.  We have discussed that everyone poops.  We have talked about how Mommy doesn’t like to clean it up and how you don’t like to be dirty.  These conversations all feel very fruitful.

Yet, when the time comes, you continue to poop in your pants.  Pee?  No way.  But the poop seems to not be able to EVER find it’s way to the potty.

I understand that this is a common problem, especially in boys.  However, as long as it is a problem with YOU I am the one that has to clean it up.  I have serious problems with that.  I love you, but I don’t like to touch poop.  I don’t like to think about what you had for dinner the night before coming out in various forms of brown.  I don’t like to swish the underwear in the toilet water.  I don’t like that the smell gets stuck in my nose for HOURS after the actual evidence has been disposed of.

You are a very intelligent child.  I am certain that this is not a case of “not getting it”.  You get it yet STILL choose not to comply.

Something has got to give before one very nice Mommy goes a little nuts.

Thank you.

Now, go ahead.  Tell me I’m wrong.

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My First Adventure in Poop

There are some things that you think only happen in movies.  The rationale is that only Hollywood could create something so disgusting that it’s funny.  But today, the disgustingly funny came to my life in the form of a poop adventure. 

Each morning I’m awakened by the sweet sounds of my son babbling to himself over the baby monitor.  As I lay there listening, resisting the start of the day, Jeff says to me from the ironing board, “That baby probably has a diaper he’s wanting to get out of.”  We didn’t know how true that statement was.  So, I get up and slide my feet down the hallway and before I even get to his door I can smell it.  I have ZERO affection for changing poopy diapers as it is, but the smell coming out of his room is far worse than any other diaper aroma I’ve ever experienced.  But, I know it’s unavoidable.  I go in.  The smell is almost alive, knocking me to the side.
Carter is standing in his crib with a big smile on his face, as if he knows what I’m about to see and he’s feeling a little proud of his creation.  I’m walking slowly forward with a smile on my face so Carter won’t know how distressed I am about what I am facing.  I see it.  I know that I cannot be the sole witness to this mess, so I call in a small voice, “Jeeeeeeff.”  He says, “What?” I say a little louder and with a little more urgency, “Jeeeeeeff, you gotta come here and see this.”  He walks in, buttoning his dress shirt and stops.  He can’t see it yet, but he smells it.  “Oh my God Carter, did ya’ have to stink up the whole house?”, was his reaction.  He comes closer and understands.  
There is poop everywhere.  It is in little puddles of brown on his light blue sheet.  It’s on his bear’s head, and the bear does not look happy.  It’s smeared in 3 places up the side of the bumper cover.  It is on his beautiful Pottery Barn Kids quilt that normally hangs neatly on the side of the crib.  It is on his cute little matching pillow.  His blue dot blanket that he treasures is wrapped around him and through his legs.  It is covered in brown spots.  But, most of all, it is all over my smiling baby.  
Diaper?  What diaper?  That diaper did NOTHING to stop the avalanche of sludge escaping his body early this morning.  It came out between his legs and went south.  It came out the back the diaper and went north clear to his shoulder blades.  He had it on his arms and his legs and on his feet.  His construction pajamas were only a shell of their former whiteness.  Somehow it all had to be cleaned up.  Thank God I have the loveliest, nicest and most helpingest husband in the world.  He lifted Carter out of the crib, told him good morning and kissed him (brave, right?).  I grabbed a disposable cover for the changing pad and we laid him down.  Jeff took off the pants and I took off the shirt, tossing them into a plastic bag.  I took off the diaper that was solid poop from front to back and side to side.  No wonder it had given up the fight.  We lost count of how many wipes it took to get everything solid off of Carter so that I could carry him to the bathtub.
As I walked down the hall to the big tub, I could smell his hair.  Oh my, it was IN HIS HAIR.  Thankfully, Carter loves baths.  So, he was getting excited as I filled his little tub with water.  So excited that he PEED all over me.  Perfect, I thought.  Just perfect.  I cleaned up Carter and I took Carter back into his room to get him dressed and found Jeff taking everything off of the bed and putting it into a trash bag.  I knew I’d need to wipe down every slat on that crib before anyone touched it and somehow get the smell OUT of that room, but for now we had made progress.  Before walking Carter into the kitchen for breakfast, I brushed his teeth…just in case, you know.  Then, we all sat down for breakfast together to the sound of the washing machine.  What a shitty start to the day. HA!