You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

*Disclaimer: This blog entry shares the thoughts of my 3.5 year old son as well as some of my own. This is not for the faint of heart, those that never had children because they never wanted to change a diaper, or those that feel any sentence that contains the words “excrement,” “crap,” “potty,” or “poop” should not ever be written, much less read.

You were warned.

——-

Here’s what happened.

The Banshee was quieter today, but now has a cough. And EVERY time she coughs, she starts wailing.  Which makes her cough more.

So when she was blissfully quiet for ten minutes I used the time to get a few things done that just cannot be while a child is cling wrapped to you.

As I walked back into the kitchen the first thing I noticed was the stench. Then I saw her.

She was painting the tile with whatever had leaked out. Luckily mostly with her feet.

We had our version of a 2319.

I nearly had a panic attack and as I figured out the best way to even begin to solve this problem.

Thankfully CG was still at home and we were able to decontaminate Banshee  (by placing her in a plastic grocery bag IN the shower, then removing the diaper, removing her from the bag, and immediately turning on the spray) and the house much faster and more efficiently than I could have alone (lots and lots of Clorox wipes and towels and scrubbing).

Then came afternoon.  I feared the worst because The Tackler was overdue for a dirty diaper.

I always make him use the potty before nap, in hopes that THIS time, he will not wet the diaper he wears during nap. He rarely will ever pee in his pants unless unconscious.  That he’s done well on for a while.

No, his issue is Pooping.  For NINE months we’ve had “Please Hit Me In the Head With a Bat So I Don’t Have To Deal With This Anymore” frustration getting him to use the potty for this activity. And for the majority of that (until the last two months), it was been an Epic Failure of Titanic Proportions.

Then came Poopalooza.  Which I’ll talk about in a later blog.

Yeah, I know. You can’t wait.

But lately, perhaps because of the bribery of his favorite TV shows, or he is FINALLY growing to dislike the sensation of smushed crap in his pants, he is having more and more successes.

To say that my jaw could’ve been scraped off of the bathroom floor when I realized he had actually POOPED in the potty during his normal pee break, is not far off.  High fives were dispensed. The “I did it!” dance was done. Chuggington was watched.

Because in the past, he would pee in the potty, then wait until five minutes into nap time and fill his diaper.  Like clockwork, but if you tried to reset the clock, it just happened 20 minutes later.

And then tonight it happened.

I was dealing with a slightly happier Banshee and heard The Tackler calling me.

I glanced up the stairs and found him at the top. Pantless.

“Sweetie, where are your pants?”

He ran into the bathroom.

I followed.

“I went poopoo in the potty, Mommy!” The smile on his face was huge, beaming with pride for this monstrous accomplishment.

And sure enough, he had made yet another sizable donation to our local sewage system.  I was in awe.  TWICE in one day!

“Good job! You went poop in the potty ALL BY YOURSELF! I am SO proud of you!” I heaped on the praise in triple and quadruple helpings, praying this would be The Way of Things To Come.

“Look, the little one is on top. It’s the baby poop. That one is on the bottom. That’s the mommy poop.”

“I see.” I smiled and tried to contain my laughter. He was into anthropomorphizing things lately. Rainbows. Penguins. Ice cream cones.  And now his excrement.

“The mommy and the baby poop are snuggling.”

Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.

 

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
This entry was posted in Lil Diva, Poopapalooza, Potty Training Tales, The Tackler and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

  1. ppjewellery says:

    Hi Kelly, aw kids say the funniest things, I love it , ha ha ha, it has made my morning. I’m so pleased for you that The Tackler is doing well on the potty front.

    • Kelly K says:

      Leah – Always glad to entertain you. 🙂 I added a link later where he gives his thoughts on fish from an older blog called Dances with Fishies, in case you haven’t been through my older posts. I love how their minds work at this age. Thanks for reading!

  2. Katie says:

    Man, I feel for you. Jake had the most massive blowout when he was about 3 months old. It shot out of the diaper, completely soaked his clothes, all of my clothes (which were the work clothes I was wearing that day), the Boppy and the futon we were sitting on. We actually had to take the futon cover off and wash it because it was just covered with s***. So gross.

    • Kelly K says:

      Katie – We have had multiple blowouts between the two of them, and they are never fun. The only nice thing about 3 month old ones is they stink slightly less (if breast fed) than 3.5 year old ones. And we’ve had some doozies… The Poopapalooza I keep talking about contained a series of some very very bad ones… Oh the joys of potty training…

      At least the futon had a cover… It could’ve been a couch without a removable cushion/cover…. 🙂

  3. Jess says:

    Oh. My. God. You had me laughing out loud for AGES! I have so much to look forward to, huh??? But, wow, you must be proud… and relieved… about your son’s milestone! Yay for Tackler!

    Jess
    xx

  4. Kelly K says:

    Jess – I am proud and relieved… And wary… Because typically just when I assume he’s Got It and we are done with day time diapers, we have a round of Poopapalooza (which I will explain when I get the time in another blog)… So I am set at Cautiously Optimistic right now. 🙂

    Yes, you have a LOT to look forward to. 🙂

    I’m glad it gave you a good laugh. Because laughter is SO important, especially to us SAHM’s who have diaper blowouts, cranky children, sleepless nights, and copious amounts of drool filling our days.

    Those baby coos and smiles help too.

  5. Lori Dyan says:

    Oh Em Gee. We are living parallel lives! Anyone with a poopapalooza tag is a-ok in my books…

    So glad we’ve “met”!
    Lori

    • Kelly K says:

      Surely your Poopapalooza days are nearly over….

      My little Banshee decided that her brother shouldn’t have all the honors and thanks to teething and not feeling well (so appetite is”off”) she’s taken it upon herself to fill up the slack…

      Let’s just say the car seat (well, the liner part) and the clothes she was wearing earlier tonight are now in the washer. I have no idea how to get the car seat liner dry by tomorrow morning in 100% humidity…

  6. doodlesmom says:

    omg my three year old Caity says nearly the same thing, she points them out and says that’s the mommy, that’s the baby etc., the best one was “look Mom, it’s as big as Daddy’s!” … *sigh*

    What ever happened what nice adult conversations used to consist of what skirt you found at the mall … when you have kids, all you talk about is poop …! 😉

    • Kelly K says:

      Kelly – Children completely take over our lives, our brains, our conversations, and our blogs (though ironically are often our reason for blogging). I blame the doctors. As soon as your child is born you’re told to count dirty diapers and bowel movements. Then the allure of graduating a child to underwear and saving enormous $$$ in diapers is so strong, acts such as the one in this post are celebrated joyous events, unlikely to be rivaled until the day they graduate school.

      I think Caity and my son would have very interesting conversations if we got them together. 🙂 I can just see his response now, “No, THAT’s the Mommy one and THAT’s the Daddy one because that one is silly. And the baby one is sleeping.”

  7. Pingback: Stupid Flies.. You Go Squish Now. | Dances with Chaos

  8. Pingback: Poopapalooza | Dances with Chaos

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