Yes. This post is about poop. All about some poop. If you need to leave, I understand.
My three year old is currently writhing on my lap whimpering the phrase “I don’t feel good” over and over. We’re going on-I don’t know-week 5? of poop issues and I’m starting to lose it (starting? Let’s be real. I’m waist-deep into the sea of Losing It.).
We hit potty training real hard about two months ago and he’s been a champ. No pee accidents and no intentional average size and consistency turd-droppage since week one. That’s awesome. What is not awesome is the physical and psychological battle that’s waged every time little man needs to take the Browns to the Super Bowl. We’ve been on a constant rollercoaster of average bm’s, constipation, constarrhea and straight-up-good-old-fashioned-down-the-legs diarrhea. I’m at my wit’s and cleaning supplies’ end.
Granted, EVERYTHING is a battle at three years old. I’m not sure why I feel entitled to hassel-free toddler pooping but I DO. I feel like I fought to get him dressed, I waged war against the battery powered toys that just HAD to come into the bathtub, I battled through three entire and entirely miniscule bites of dinner. I don’t know how you feel about it but I feel pretty confident that I earned some stress-free poops in there somewhere.
And here’s a fun story. I started this post yesterday but was forced to stop to attend to some motherly duties. Please, just for fun, take a guess as to what those duties (0r, should I say doodies) were. Just a quick guess…
Yep. Mid poop-blogging, I had to stop to help my anxious toddler poop. Naturally. It was beyond traumatic. He had a rough time, too. ;) I basically had to put all my big-mama’s-house weight down on him to keep him from flinging his little body off the toilet and running through the house leaving a turd trail in his wake. Meanwhile, he’s weeping and screaming and I’m sweating and trying not to cry. He did eventually move those stubborn bowels and then wept with a smile on his face repeating, “You’re so proud of me!” over and over. Thankfully, the smell of the constinuggets was so pungent that it distracted me from what I really wanted to do which was weep like a constipated toddler on the bathroom floor.
Since that evacuation, we’ve had 2 more successful rounds of dropping the kids off at the pool and far less “My body hurts!” whimpering. Thank the fiber-eating Lord because I need a few days to recover.
And please, for my sanity and his bowels, please share you favorite colon cleansing remedies. Everyone in this house will be eternally grateful.