My Little Picasso's

My Little Picasso's

Sunday, February 8, 2015

poop

Everybody poops ... everybody ... but why does it have to be a constant wonder to my children.  When I poop, I want to be alone. 

Not my kids ... they want the door wide open for everyone to partake in the wonder, the smell, the sounds, the color, the ... shit.  Because that is what it is, shit. When Daddy poops, they want to be there.  When mommy poops, they want to be there.  When the dog poops, they want to be there.  Um, I live in central PA - it's cold outside.

Max is amazing.  Potty training was so easy with him once he did it at the ripe old age of ... 3 and a number of months.  One morning ... no pull-up.  Underpants.  Nope.  Underpants.  He even sat on the pot, every single time, to drop a deuce.

Charlie finds a particular enjoyment in pooping in his pull-up.  He tells you when he's doing it too.  Thanks kid.  Believe me, I know.  It smells.  I find it 100% a win for the day if I can get him to sit on the potty and drop a deuce or try to drop a deuce.  Finish one.  Try to start one.  WHATEVER.  Did I mention he wants to see his poop??!?!?!?!???????!!?!?!?

I think he's scared.  As a constipated child, when he finally passed a BM it was a wonder for all to take part in due to his ceiling level screaming ... in PAIN.  Poor baby.  Prunes, apples, Miralax, whatever ... nothing fully helped.  He will tell me it's hard to sometimes.  I feel for the kid ... no one likes to be constipated, but mama's bank account is broke.  I can't keep buying pull-ups.

Hopefully he can figure this out by kindergarten.

February 8th, 2015