Just another day of blog hops, when I was reading some different linked up blogs from the Raising Imperfection Blog Hop that I was co-hosting this past weekend, when I came to one titled “50 Shades of Poop”.
Perfect title especially with the current craze of legions of women who have read the book that the actual title was taken from (I don’t suppose E.L. James was going for this when she penned this book, but I digress). Anyway in a nutshell, the article talked about an incident that had occurred to TJ one of the mom bloggers on the Chi-Town Mommy Mayhem, about her infant child waking her during the night having pretty much blown out his diaper from what I like to call a poop explosion.
Being a mother to two little girls, who are thankfully out of the diaper phase, I could still relate. And honestly the first thing that came to mind and I even commented about was a similar experience we had had with Emma (our older daughter), when she was right around 6 months old. It was during the day and I remember she had been playing a bit, when I smelled that all-so familiar smell. I went to go change her, only there was so much poop that a box of wipes would not have solved this problem. I mean there was poop in places I didn’t think possible. It took two people (Kevin and I) to assess the damage and quickly come to the realization that this was a job that called for the bathtub. Being that Emma was small and tiny for her age, she either got sponge baths on her changing table or baths in the little baby tub still. No sir, this was not going to cut it. She ended up stripped down to her birthday suit getting a full-on bath in our tub for the very first time.
Long story short, after almost 3 years, I still remember that and don’t think I will ever forget it, but the thing that gets me the most about this is the actual topic of poop (or any bodily function) for most mothers (myself included) and how we think and talk about it all the time, once we are mothers. What does that mean? Well, quite simple, I don’t think a day has gone by since I brought Emma home from the hospital that I haven’t gone without talking about or dealing with some kind of poop issue.
Here are just a few and won’t bore you or gross you out too much more. As an infant Emma had bad constipation from only a few days old from lactose based formula (yes she wouldn’t latch, so no breast feeding here). We switched her to soy, only to have her pooping every hour on the hour (yup a lovely by product of a soy allergy). And this folks was only the first month of her life.
I can go on, we have had issues with both our kids throughout the three plus years of parenting. Like the time, I gradually switched Lily over to milk at a year old and once she was fully on milk, the child that was never constipated to put it bluntly was suddenly crapping marbles (yes I couldn’t make this up if I tried). To just last week (for those who read me sorry to repeat myself here), Lily who is now fully potty trained had a stomach bug and stood in the doorway of the kitchen, telling me she had to poop, only to have had diarrhea all over and yet more fun times in the bath for yet another child.
So it all goes back to one major task that most pediatricians lay on mothers and that is , as new moms, we are told to track our kids peeing and pooping occurrences (there are even iPad apps that will do this for us–how very convenient, I suppose). Seriously, if you aren’t a parent, you probably are saying, “Are you kidding me?” No I am totally serious and still think in these terms with my kids even though they aren’t babies, because I still worry about poor Emma, who started out with constipation and probably always will have issues. Hey, I am a mom through and through and this is just my job.
So seriously, poop is just an everyday part of my life, like it or not. If you don’t believe me, I will leave you with a funny Lily quote from earlier today (see even my kids are poop obsessed, too!).
I was making chocolate milk. I poured the milk into their Tinker Bell cups from the Disney Store (because god forbid my princess/fairy crazed girls drink from anything less). As I got to squeezing the Hershey’s Syrup in their milk, it sounded like the container was farting, because it was almost at the end. Hey before you go judging me, I had a new bottle, but was trying to finish the last of this one off before opening the new one. Waste not, want not!! Well, the little face standing next to me clear as day said, “Excuse me.” Seriously, at the very least I guess, I should be happy that she at least has manners, where this stuff is concerned!!
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