Fecal Adventures

Blogger has this feature: this little radio button you can select to warn readers that there may be "adult content" in your blog.

I think there should be a "gross content" radio button. Because I would need it for today's tale from the kitchen.

So now you have been warned. If poop grosses you out, you should stop reading here.

On to my story...

In one of my many attempts at potty training, I sent Jack out the door to play one morning with no diaper on. I told him he could pee on a tree or off the deck or ....whatever. As long as it was intentional peeing, I didn't care.

I headed back in the house to fetch Ava when it suddenly occurred to me that it was around 9:00 am. This is when my Jack-Jack usually ...hmm...does his business for the day. I'm serious. You could set your clock by that boy's bowels.

I run back outside calling "Jack-Jack! Let's put a diaper back on!"

I wish there was a good way to describe the way he walked back to the house. It was sort of a cross between the way a pregnant lady walks and a penguin wobbles.

I can only laugh, because sometimes if you don't laugh, you'll just cry.

"Jack," I inquire, "Did you poop?"

"Yes." So matter of fact, so I-know-this-is-not-ideal.

I begin to tip toe across the lawn as if I'm walking on hot coals asking Jack where he pooped.

"Ova dare," he tells me, pointing to the big Box elder tree in his fence.  And I see it. One might think we have a sick dog in the yard, but no. It's just Jack. You see, to fully understand what I was facing you have to realize the quantity of fresh fruit Jack eats, and we just came off a week of oodles of fresh peaches and blueberries.

Ugh. If this was in another place in the yard it wouldn't be so bad. But this is where my babies play. And Ava's obsessed with that tree.

Somehow I manage to scrape up most of this gooey mess and I pour bleach on the rest. Yes, bleach, on my grass. Would you be surprised to find out that it did not kill the grass there? I was.

Oh, and Jack. He was covered in the remnants of undigested peaches and blueberries from his waist to his ankles, and that was fun to clean, too!

On to my next story...

I'm cuddling with my Jack-Jack before nap time. He starts to quiet down when Ava marches into the room. I tell her, "Shhh, go wait in your room and I'll be right there."

In a not so quiet voice she tells me "I'm gonna sit on the potty first!"

Okay. Fine. Go sit on the potty. She's been doing it all day. I don't think the girl actually realizes that you are supposed to do something on the potty.

She tromps down the stairs and begins her ritual. Seconds later I hear the clomp, clomp, clomp of her not-so-light foot steps going from the bathroom to my bedroom. I hear things opening and clomp, clomp, clomp back to the bathroom.

I tell myself it can't be that bad. I'm not about to interrupt Jack's pre nap time quiet for anything. I need this boy to take his nap!

As I lay Jack in his crib, I hear more fumbling coming from the downstairs bathroom, and I run down there. Peeking in there I see Ava and ....poop....lots and lots of poop....everywhere..........everywhere BUT in the potty. There's poop on the floor, on the hand towel, on the sides of the potty. Ava had apparently clomped to my room to fetch a few wipes to attempt to clean up the mess since the hand towel obviously didn't work for her.

Holding fist fulls of dirty wipes, she spots me and as soon as she does, she begins to cry. (I completely teared up telling my husband this story and I'm almost certain he did, too). She's either embarrassed, ashamed, or completely overwhelmed. I rush down to the floor and begin helping her wipe the mess, feeling my heart ache over her tears.

I know this is getting long, but do we have time for one more story? Maybe one with a picture? It's short, I promise!

Somewhere in the midst of the messiness from the above Ava declared one day that she had a poopy in her diaper.

Always trying to cram one more little task in before I start the next, I call out, "I'll be right there!"

In the mean time, Ava climbed up the changing table, again declaring to the world that she had a poopy. Jack runs into the room saying, "Ooooo! Let me see!"

I never said it was a good picture. I just said I had a picture. And I've had enough poop...