Tuesday, March 3, 2009

You Can't Polish A Turd (Especially When There's Corn In It)

SOMEONE has kindly reminded me I have been delinquent in my blogging duties (thank you Laura, how can I resist when you flatter me so?) so I have settled in here with a cup of coffee determined to write something.

DISCLAIMER: I cannot be held responsible for content. All potty humor forthcoming is a product of blogging under "duress", the fact that I recently read two hilarious pieces involving colon cleansing and chili respectively, and the fact that having three children just naturally means your life involves copious amount of poo.

We are not worrying too much right now about attempting potty training yet. And by "we" of course I mean me. There is no "we" when it comes to potty training believe you me. The other parental unit in this house abdicated all potty duties long ago. He seems to think our children just miraculously sit down on the toilet one day and produce waste products in a timely and tidy manner much the same way all laundry seems to appear in his drawers cleaned and folded as if the Laundry Fairy pays him a nightly visit. She got directions to our house from the Tooth Fairy. But I digress as I am wont to do.

So the only assistance I can count on in potty training is pretty much from the dog. But you really don't want to know what she does to help. No really. Even *I* have limits on what I will print here.

So anyway, I take the lazy approach to potty training. I figure it's going to happen somewhere around three years of age with or without my help. I know this from experience. Sabrina being my first child I thought it was time to potty train somewhere around 18 months of age. She disagreed. To the point where she developed severe constipation involving years of laxative therapy from trying to hold in her poop so she didn't have to use that potty. And after being exasperated for a year and a half, tearing my hair out and being certain the girl would have to pack diapers in her lunchbox, one day shortly after she turned three she solemnly announced to my mother "I have to use the potty all the time now."

And she did. From that day forward.

So I finally figured out the important lesson of "You can lead a child to the toilet but you cannot make them poop." The dog on the other hand will be happy to be led to the toilet and drink anything available, never mind mellow yellow or brown not yet flushed down.

Hmmmm, it seems I really don't have limits on what I will talk about here.

Moving right along.

Jamie was much easier to potty train once I realized it was really just a matter of providing him with tools (a convenient potty) and incentive (kids don't like when you leave their diaper off and the pee runs down their legs), and they learn pretty quickly to use the potty. Granted Jamie had more of a fire hose effect, but honestly, I let him run around bare-ass for a few days and that was really all it took. Yes it involved cleaning up some pee, but after three kids, a dog and a cat, I'm kind of used to that by now no?

But I can honestly say, none of my kids ever pooped without a diaper on or a potty under their butts.

So the other day, Meredith removed her diaper. She likes to do this. When you're two, something as simple as this is a major achievement in your life. She was going to take a nap soon so I felt no need to rush over and put a new one on for the 10-15 minutes before she took her nap. Besides I was very busy with important work, AKA surfing the Internet.

So she carried on playing with Play-Doh at the dining room table sans pants. And I will confess I forgot she wasn't wearing a diaper (I miss my brain cells sometimes), so when she sounded a little more alarmed than normal when she said "Mama poop!" it surprised me a little.

Then the hamster stirred from his Internet induced coma, got on his wheel with a creaky groan, and the synapses began to fire again.

Despite her complete willingness, I thwarted all of the dog's efforts to help clean up.

The dog won't eat the damn Cheerios the kids drop on the floor like snowflakes, but she's more than willing to entertain the end result.

6 comments:

Hot Belly Mama said...

What a great post! I absolutely loved this!

L said...

what i love is that you talked about poop. openly. it gives me the courage to admit that i, too, talk about poop. in real life. and am considering talking about it in the blogosphere.

you see, i have pooper problems. capital "pooper" capital "problems." had my first colonoscopy at age 29. have horrible ibs. everything i eat upsets my intestines. in fact, my intestines and i are thinking about breaking up. and i talk about it. to anyone and everyone. surprising, i know. i appear so proper on the outside, no?

we've moved to a whole new level in our blogsophere relationship now, you and i.

keep the poop coming.

and thanks for the shout-out at the beginning of your post. i blushed. :)

with love from pittsburgh...

L said...

p.s.

remind me to write a post about the "corn in my poopy and poopy in my corn" song. seriously. it's a real song. my friend made it up when we were in the 5th grade.

see what you've started?

Irishembi said...

Thanks HB Mama!

L, If you are in possession of a song called "Corn in my poopy, and poopy in my corn," I will HAUNT you until you write about it. Never mind that Graduate School crap! That could be my theme song.

We are obviously soul sisters. :-)

Jenn said...

Yes, the last time Lacey was left without pants I heard the 'Momma, POOP!' yell from my important business (computer) across the house. From the time it took me to take her to the bathroom just in case she needed to 'finish,' the poop in the living room floor had all but disappeared. But there was a happy looking black dog licking his lips by the front door. I was severely grossed out.

Yet this past week when she had the throwup virus, I totally let him clean up. With your 3, I'm sure you know how hard it is to clean tiny chunks of corn and who knows what else out of carpet, couches, and blankets. Especially those fluffy little kid couches. Yuck. And the washing machine HATES chunks. I was so tired, I just let him lick her up.

Norkio said...

The only think I will 'fess up to is letting the dogs clean up the cat's throw up. Poop is where I draw the line, lol.