Nothing to See Here…

My two year old is a tub-pooper. 

There.  Now you know my very dirty (gag, ugh, gross) secret.

I used to put her and her four year old sister in the tub together, you know - process efficiency and all that - but after that first poop, the four year old would have NONE of that.  “Ewwww, I’m not taking a bath with her.”  The baby would go for months with no pooping in the tub and I would finally convince the four year old “She’s grown out of that stage, she knows better now.  It’s safe to go back in the water!” 

And she’d believe me.  Silly girl.

Because?  It would only be a short while until the two year old pooped again and we’d repeat the cycle.

The other day, I finally talked Jadyn into letting Raena bathe with her again.  It was a tough sell.  I had to promise her a pony and World Peace.  And really, it kills me to lie to the kid like that.

So the two of them are in the tub playing innocently and I’m watching them like fucking Roy Scheider watched the ocean in Jaws.  So, of course, I see The Look on her face.  And this was no fake shark fin, my friends, this was the real deal.

“Code Red!  Code Red!  All hands on deck!” I shouted to no one.  I picked up the dripping wet baby and rushed her to the toilet. (See? It’s no coincidence that the tub and the toilet are in the same small room - the person who thought up that brilliant idea had a tub-pooping baby, I’m certain of it.)

The utter urgency of my actions fa-reaked the baby out and who can poop when they’re all freaked out, right?  So she’s on the big toilet with pooping anxiety and I’m holding her so she doesn’t fall in and she’s looking at me like “Who are you and what have you done with my lazy, apathetic mother who never ever moves so quickly?”

I’ve been down this road before, people, and if there is one thing I know, it’s that in situations like these persistence pays off.  I held that baby on that toilet until she had no choice but to release the swimmers.

My baby!  My last one!  She POOPED ON THE POTTY!!!  It was her first time doing any business on the potty.  (And before you ask, yes, I do intend on over-reacting every time my last baby does her first anything… “A booger!  She picked at ate her own booger all by herself.  Quick, let me go blog it!”)

Today, this is definitely a mommy blog because nobody but a mommy would want to write about or read about the baby poop.  So for all you non-parent readers out there, please indulge me - it’s one damn baby poop post.  I’m quite certain I’ve blogged about my own poop more often than that!  Ha!

Of course, once she made the poop in the potty, and we were all clapping and dancing around, she looked as if she was thinking “Oh, Christ on a Bike, how is it I landed here with these idiots?”  The girl who has been obsessed with flushing my doo-doo for months would not go near the handle to flush her own.  I read somewhere that little ones get scared when they don’t know where their poop goes.  They feel the loss of their poop.

“It’s OK, honey.” I said reassuringly.  “It will probably just end up on the Fox News channel with all the other crap out there.”

postscript:  I know nothing about Fox News except that Conan got big laughs making fun of it the other night on the Emmys.  I’m a lemming, that’s all.