The Poop Incident…

Well, it’s been months since my last post.  I have to apologize for that.  I really don’t have an excuse other than life got in the way.  I can’t tell you how many times I sat down to write and just couldn’t focus long enough to actually finish a thought.  I had so many good ideas and things I wanted to write about, but not enough time.  So here I am, apologizing yet again for a long absence.  I do hope that doesn’t happen again anytime soon.

Now, on to other things.  We have been working very hard on potty training my son.  He’s done great… with exception of pooping on the potty.  He still insists on pooping in a diaper.  I don’t know why and he can’t explain it, but he refuses to sit on the potty to poop.  It really has been a struggle and I’ve tried to be patient, however I am tired of changing diapers.  It’s one of the major reasons I’m glad Mr. X is our last baby.  I’m past the point where I really want to deal with diapers and wipes.  He’ll be four in a couple of weeks and I have been pushing so hard for him to be fully potty trained by then.  It hasn’t worked, at all.  He still puts up a good fight and ultimately I don’t want him to be afraid to poop, so I give in and he gets a diaper.

The other night we had a long discussion about how he can poop on the potty and it’ll be great.  I let him know how proud I’d be if he would just try to go on the potty.  He shook his head and insisted that there was “no more poop inside”.  That’s been his favorite excuse lately.  He swears that he’ll never need to poop again because he’s already squeezed it all out.  It’s rather cute listening to him explain this.  He finished explaining his lack of poop and then bounced off to his room.  About an hour later he comes out of his room, stomps into the bathroom and then heads back to his room.  He’s in his room for maybe ten more minutes before coming back out.

As a parent I just know when they’ve done something horrible.  I can tell by the way they walk and the expressions on their faces.  This was one of those moments.  Mr. X had this look.  The look that says “I did something bad and don’t want to tell you”.  To further his point, he maneuvers himself into the corner between his room and the bathroom.  Of course he doesn’t say a word.  He just looks at me.

  • Me: “What’s up buddy?”
  • Mr. X.: “Look” he points to his room
  • Me: cringing “What happened?”

At this point I really don’t want to get up and look.  I figure if I can ask enough questions maybe my husband will get up and look.  If he looks, he has to deal with the issue.  Typically this tactic works, but not this round.  My dear husband is completely ignoring the situation.

  • Mr. X: “Just looooook…. messy.”
  • Me: sigh “Alright…”

I got up and headed toward his bedroom.  In my head I’m hearing the Imperial March (We’ve been on a Star Wars kick in my house lately).  It feels like I’m walking to my doom.  As I get closer I can smell it.  He stinks like no other.  I peek into his room as he points to his floor.  Right there, smack dab in the middle of the floor is a trail of poop.  I kinda lost it there.  I don’t really know what I said or how I managed to find the carpet cleaner and disinfectant.  I do know there was a lot of slamming of cupboards and stomping of feet.

I managed to get the carpet cleaned and then moved on to the boy.  We marched into the bathroom and I find more mess.  There, in the middle of the bathroom floor is a pile of clothes.  I can tell they have been somehow tarnished by poop.  I look a little closer and sure enough, there inside the underwear is a lemon sized poop squished into a chocolate kiss shape.

  • Me: “What did you do?!”
  • Mr. X: “I change my pants” he just shrugs.

At the time I didn’t think it was cute.  Looking back now I can appreciate that he was only trying to help.  He did what he thought he should do.  I just wish he’d have grabbed me before changing his own pants.

  • Me: “Did you wipe your bum?”
  • Mr. X: “No…  I’m still squishy mom.”

Uggh.  So not only did the boy poop in his pants, but he also got it on the bedroom carpet, bathroom floor and dirtied another set of clothes.  Yeah, it was working out to be a great night.  I pulled off his pants and got him all cleaned up and changed into pajamas.  I marched him to his bedroom and tucked him in for a video before bed.

  • Me: “Alright buddy, you stay here and I’m going to take a bath.  Do not leave your room.”
  • Mr. X: “I’m sorry momma… “
  • Me: starting to thaw just a little “It’s fine, but you have to learn to poop on the potty.”

I gave him snuggles and then headed off for some much needed seclusion.  Sometimes you just gotta walk away to maintain your sanity.  Usually the kids know to leave me alone when I’m in the bath.  That’s mommy time and they get in trouble for interrupting.  Evidently, Mr. X didn’t think it applied at the time.  About 20 minutes later there’s a knock at my door.

  • Mr. X: “Mommy, I sorry.  You come out now?”
  • Me: “I’ll be there in a bit, go back to you room.”

Another five minutes pass and he knocks again.

  • Mr. X: “Ok Momma, time to come out.  I need snuggles.”

How can anyone resist that?!  Angry or not, you don’t pass up snuggles.  I drained the tub, got ready for bed and headed back into my room.  There on my bed, snuggled with my special blanket that Miss Lulu gave me for Christmas, was my little Mr. X.  Sound asleep.  I crawled in next to the guy and cuddled him.  All my frustration and anger was gone.  It didn’t take long for me to drift into my own poop free dreamland.

The next day my sister, who happens to nanny for me, sent me a text.

  • Sister: “Mr. X just asked to poop on the potty!”
  • Me: “Seriously?!”
  • Sister: “Yep and he did!  No hesitation!”

Alright, so maybe just maybe pooping on the floor solved the problem.  Who knew that all it would take was seeing poop on the floor for him to realize that the potty was a much better idea?


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