Poop-1, Mommy-0
So there I was, poop everywhere, and we were out of Clorox Bleach Wipes.
(Sorry, but I thought it would be best to just dunk you in head first and get it over with. Since my blog will most likely be devoted to my Adventures in Motherhood, it seems fitting to have my first entry be about poop. The first of many such stories, to be sure.)
Anyway, poop everywhere. This is because my three-year-old has declared that she won’t poop on the potty until she’s four. We have to take off her big girl panties and put on a wretched diaper every time she has to go. Number one is a breeze, it’s number two that’s causing all the problems. So today, out of sheer desperation I told her that if she poops in the potty we’ll take her to see “Madagascar.” She loves the “big TV,” and was very excited about the idea, so she ran into the bathroom to give it a whirl. The girl tried, she really did. There was a lot of straining, grunting, and frustrated exclamations involved. But it just didn’t happen. Predictably, she asked for a diaper about an hour later. When she was done, she took it into the bathroom and emptied it in the toilet. With poop smeared all over her butt, she hoisted herself onto the seat. It usually takes her a minute to get adjusted, and by the time she was comfortable, the poop had migrated from her sweet little bottom to cover the toilet seat and the back of her left leg. It is at this point I enter the bathroom, give a horrified shriek, and rush to find the Clorox wipes. They were gone, all gone! Like an idiot I had used them on our KITCHEN COUNTER instead of saving them for a real emergency! Luckily, we still had an enormous box of diaper wipes, so Huggies saved the day. (Although I didn’t have any of those later in the day, when E-- pooped at the exercise club, but we’ll save that for another time.)
The saddest part was that A~ was so darn proud of herself for figuring out a way to get the promised reward without actually pooping directly in the potty. She was absolutely convinced she had done her part, and that I must now pay up.
I’m so frustrated. Teaching one’s child to direct their bodily waste into the toilet has been done for generations. Indeed, since the toilet was invented. We have successfully taught her to speak, feed herself, and get dressed. Where have we gone wrong here?
(Okay, maybe the getting dressed part was a little too hopeful seeing as she is currently dancing naked to Laurie Berkner.)
(Sorry, but I thought it would be best to just dunk you in head first and get it over with. Since my blog will most likely be devoted to my Adventures in Motherhood, it seems fitting to have my first entry be about poop. The first of many such stories, to be sure.)
Anyway, poop everywhere. This is because my three-year-old has declared that she won’t poop on the potty until she’s four. We have to take off her big girl panties and put on a wretched diaper every time she has to go. Number one is a breeze, it’s number two that’s causing all the problems. So today, out of sheer desperation I told her that if she poops in the potty we’ll take her to see “Madagascar.” She loves the “big TV,” and was very excited about the idea, so she ran into the bathroom to give it a whirl. The girl tried, she really did. There was a lot of straining, grunting, and frustrated exclamations involved. But it just didn’t happen. Predictably, she asked for a diaper about an hour later. When she was done, she took it into the bathroom and emptied it in the toilet. With poop smeared all over her butt, she hoisted herself onto the seat. It usually takes her a minute to get adjusted, and by the time she was comfortable, the poop had migrated from her sweet little bottom to cover the toilet seat and the back of her left leg. It is at this point I enter the bathroom, give a horrified shriek, and rush to find the Clorox wipes. They were gone, all gone! Like an idiot I had used them on our KITCHEN COUNTER instead of saving them for a real emergency! Luckily, we still had an enormous box of diaper wipes, so Huggies saved the day. (Although I didn’t have any of those later in the day, when E-- pooped at the exercise club, but we’ll save that for another time.)
The saddest part was that A~ was so darn proud of herself for figuring out a way to get the promised reward without actually pooping directly in the potty. She was absolutely convinced she had done her part, and that I must now pay up.
I’m so frustrated. Teaching one’s child to direct their bodily waste into the toilet has been done for generations. Indeed, since the toilet was invented. We have successfully taught her to speak, feed herself, and get dressed. Where have we gone wrong here?
(Okay, maybe the getting dressed part was a little too hopeful seeing as she is currently dancing naked to Laurie Berkner.)
May 18, 2005