I haven’t written in quite a while. The reasons behind that are long and I won’t bore you.
In short, I haven’t written anything because I’ve been up to my elbows in sh@$!%t – literally
If you have read any of my past posts (My House Smells Like Ass, Kicked Out Of Poop Camp) then you are familiar with my professional career as a potty trainer. If not, then let me just say that for the last 3 plus years, I have been potty training my son and we seemed to have come back full circle to the beginning.
If someone had said that one day, I would know everything there is to know about human excrement, I would have poo poo’d them (no pun intended).
But here I am, currently back on poop patrol, doody duty, sh@#!$t stakeout – trying desperately to end this seemingly endless cycle of potty training.
Let me tell you, I have read every book, internet article, watched every youtube video, and seen every pediatric GI doctor on the East coast in an effort to help my son gain control over his bowels. At this point, I should have earned a doctorate in poop.
Tell me your bodyweight and I can tell you the exact ratio of Mirlax to Gatorade you need to drink to clean out your colon. Want to use Ex-Lax or Ducolax? I can give you those doses too. I can tell you how many hours after your “poop” cocktail that your first poop will arrive and all the stages that little bugger will go through till you’re regular again. Show me a picture of poop and I can tell you what type it is according to the Bristol Stool Chart. Want to know the inner working of the colon? Know that too. I know when a colon is stretched too much, it loses it’s ability to sense a poop. You can sh$@!t your pants and truly not know it was happening. I can tell you the difference between true diarrhea and just leakage. Let me feel your belly and I’ll tell you if you’re constipated. Do you know the difference between a “skiddy” and a “shart”? I do.
My whole household revolves around poop. While most people hang pictures of their kids’ artwork on the frig, mine is covered with poop charts, reminders to poop, and X-rays of colons. Dinner conversations are not about “how was your day?” or “what did you do?”, it’s more like “did you have an accident today?” or “do you have a poop stuck?”. My phone has more pictures of poop on it than any one person should have. I have downloaded more poop tracking apps then I have mindless games. We own enough Mirlax and Ex-lax to keep a small country regular for the next two years. We share our poop escapades with others like most share summer camp stories. We are actually quite proud of our poop and will cheer on anyone who is pooping regularly as well as sympathize with those who are not. We compare our poops to see who as the healthiest poop and we show our friends what their poops should look like.
I consider myself the Professor of Poop, the Logger of Logs, The Doctor of Dumps. Our motto is “a good poop in the morning makes for a great day!” Achieving regularity is the ultimate goal of our house. They say no one has ever gone to college in a diaper, but some days it feels like we might just win that prestigious award. At least by then, my son will be seen as a hero at his frat house for never having to lose his place in the keg line to go use the bathroom. Right now, kids are not so forgiving and so I am determined to help my son through this. To see him achieve success this time. It could take up to a year for his colon to get back to knowing it’s proper job, but we cannot give up. We are in it for the long haul. We’ve lost 3 couches, 4 rugs, and countless pairs of undies to poop. I’ve had poop on my hands, on my clothes, and on my floors and I’m fully prepared for more of the same. As my husband often says, “sh!@$t wipes off”. So I will continue to log the logs and mix up poop cocktails until we can one day look back at this all and say….”we nailed that sh!@#!t!
Peace and Poops