The Kids

The Kids

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Chronicles Of Poop

No one ever told me how much being a mother would involve poop.

Yes, I figured it out that I would be changing a bunch of diapers for the first couple of years.  I guess I just failed to see that it would be a couple of years-per child. 

Even so, I figured once they were potty trained, my concern for their bowel movements would not be that high on my list of things to worry about. 

Not true.

While Abby is a sweet girl who does her business and sees no need to describe it to me, I also have a son.  Mr. Caleb finds it fascinating to see how big his movements can get or what the shape resembles.  I cannot tell you how many times that I have heard the phrase, "Mom, you gotta look at this!" come from the bathroom.  Add on his stomach issues and needing miralax every day, my professional skills with the plunger and I am pretty much over discussing Caleb's poop.

Oh, but wait-I have a second son. 

Noah seems to have read the book on "How to be a boy to your mom who is a girl" and really worked on his special present for me yesterday.

He was napping (i.e. goofing off in his pack-n-play in my room) when I checked on him.  I could smell the poop from the stairway so I figured I was in for it.  When I picked him up, I realized that he had taken off his pants.  After I placed him on my bed to change him, I noticed that he had poop everywhere. 

Everywhere.  On his legs.  On his shirt.  On his fingers.  And, oh yes, on his face.

Now, my first reaction was to leave and flee.  If he is independent enough to remove his pants, then he can clean himself up, right?

I finally remembered his age of 17 months, grabbed the wipes and got to work.

Unfortunately, he must have been playing around in there for quite awhile because it took a lot of work to clean his hands.  I used those wipes and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed the poop off his fingers.  Noah, of course, sat there giggling.  Nick's son was not making me very happy.

I finally cleaned him up and went into Caleb's room to get new clothes.  When I told Caleb that Noah had pooped everywhere, he said, "Oh, I want to see!"

I immediately shut the door before he could follow me.

After putting Noah back down to nap and washing my hands for a very, very long time, I heard Abby run to the bathroom.  As I ran upstairs and held her hair back as she lost her two saltine crackers and ginger ale, I thought, "No, Abby, you're my clean, pretty girl that doesn't gross me out!"

But, instead, I rubbed her back and told her that everything would be okay.

And it will be. 

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