When the babies were little the subject of poop was one that came up frequently. What was the consistency, frequency, yada yada yada. Fast forward a few years and my life is still full of, well, crap. The 18 month old gets a free pass. Though smelly, she still plays the cute card by announcing "hiney, poo-poo, shoo!" I change her, and send her on her way silently counting down the days until the potty process clicks and we're diaper free.
My three year old...what can I say about this??... The current situation ranges from explosive ill timed volcanic eruptions to last minute shivering races to the nearest potty. Of course, if he's outside nature just takes over and when he's got to go, he goes. This was the case after a delicious church pot-luck dinner on a recent Wednesday night.
My husband and were saying our goodbyes to friends and loading dishes and children into the minivan. We were caught up in a conversation with another parent about another child's horrifying church performance when one of the teenagers says "James is naked." Now, James is naked every chance he can find so that's never surprising. James being naked after ingesting mass quantities of unfamiliar food, caffienated soda and dessert while hiding behind the van made me want to run for the hills. I knew what I was in for before I rounded the corner. There was my son, minus his shorts, standing above a still steaming pile. In my haste to get his shorts back on him, he must have stepped in it. This I didn't know until it showed up electric green on the black carpet of my van. Needless to say, we made a speedy, red-faced exit from church that night. We had James hose himself off in the front yard (which he loved) and wash out his skid marked underwear and poop shoes (this he didn't love). I cleaned the poop out of the car seat and carpet myself.
When I was a nanny and gagging at the diapers I changed, I remember the mom saying to me that it would be different when it was my own kids' poop. Fast forward ten years, and I'm still grossed out. I was as horrified as can be when I entered my infant daughter's room to find that she'd smeared poop all over herself (there was a line around her pacifier that sent me gagging!) and was happy to be playing in it. My reaction had nothing to do with who birthed her. It was just straight up gross. Now I'm ready to be done with the waste management portion of my career. As a mother, is it really necessary that I have to say things like "don't poop in the yard" or better yet to the dog "oh God don't eat that!"? Is it? Will there be a day when a naked 18 month old doesn't hop out of the tub all squeaky clean and drop a deuce on the kitchen floor? Will my three year old EVER learn to stop what he's doing and head for the potty before he explodes in the hallway? How many years will I be cleaning someone else's poop off of my hard wood floors. Will there ever be a day I'm nostalgic about touching someone else's poop? I doubt it.
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