Poop: It's What's For Dinner

My younger son, Tot-Tot, is totally obsessed with poo-poo. And pee-pee. And poo-poo and pee-pee.

He is a really verbal child. He started talking well before he was a year old. He has an extensive vocabulary. Self-expression is a true talent of his.

But you wouldn't know it.

Because, these days, it's all potty talk. All the time.

If you ask him how he's doing, he'll say, laughing: "POOPY IN YOUR UNDERPANTS!"

If you ask him what he wants for dinner, it's: "Poo-poo. And pee-pee." (And then he might add something about eating it until he gets so sick he dies. Oof.)

If you ask him to share a toy, he might respond: "I'm gonna poop all over your head!"

Behold the 3-year-old mind. (And he's turning 4 in 2 short weeks.)

My older son, Big Boy, never had a poop obsession. So even though potty talk seems totally age-appropriate, I didn't have to endure it with boy number one. Big Boy also had no problems with pooping on the potty, which has been an ongoing issue for Tot-Tot. TT is one of those preschoolers who will only poop in a pull-up. He wants to go standing up. In a corner. Often in the playroom. Or under a table. Sometimes in a restaurant. It's. So. Ew. But I try not to make a big deal of it. And he has agreed that when he is four, he will go on the potty.

God, I hope so.

And maybe...just maybe...then the endless potty talk will stop. Once the poop goes in the potty, maybe then he won't need to be so obsessed with it.

Maybe? (Please don't tell me this is just a boy thing.) (And that I will have to live with this.) (I am dreading the pre-teen years enough already.) (Thanks.)

Gross

Yesterday, something was awry at kindergarten pick-up. I showed up, parked Tot-Tot outside in his stroller, and ran in to get Big Boy. He was sitting at a corner table looking distressed. He came out walking in a very awkward, stiff way, looking sheepish. I asked "is something wrong" and he mumbled, "I'll tell you at home." Then I smelled him...Ew. Gross.

I asked "did you make a poo-poo in your pants?" Looking VERY sad and humiliated, he admitted that he had. He'd apparently been playing on the playground and couldn't make it in on time. I quickly retrieved the tot, who was waiting just outside, grabbed the bag of emergency clothes I'd left at school, and we made a beeline for the kindergarten potty. After a (stinky) clothes-changing ordeal (that I'd rather forget), he was fresh and clean again, and ready to run outside.

Once we got home, the kids played together and Big Boy was in a fine mood. It was great to have solved the (smelly) problem, but I was left with another dilemma...What do I do with this gross, nasty underwear? Do I throw it out? No--I can't do that! It's from the Gap!! Do I WASH it? Ew. Gross. Who wants to do that? Finally, I decided to dump it in a bucket w/detergent and soak it overnight.

But, then, you still gotta wash it somehow...



...and then you gotta wash everything it touched...



And...ew, gross.

But, you know, I have to admit that (in addition to being thoroughly repulsed by this job) I actually felt proud of myself for taking such good care of my little Big Boy. I somehow managed to not feel angry or upset with him, I reassured him, and got him through his moment of humiliation...helping him to emerge with restored self-esteem.

And, to think...he was going to wait to tell me until we got home...you know, after RIDING in my CAR. (ew. gross.)