Everyone Poops

WARNING: In the interest of full disclosure, I must begin this entry with a warning. What follows may be may be WAY TMI for some of you. But such is my life of late, that if I didn't over share, I'd have nothing to share at all. So, if you're feeling a bit squeamish, or just aren't interested in reading up on Otter's potty habits, move along. There's nothing to see here. Even though you'll be missing out on some terribly clever and humorous writing.


Everyone poops, or so the book would have us believe. What this enlightening text fails to mention, however, is that when the "everyone" happens to be the 2-year-old living in my house, the pooping may be less a "gimme" and more of a power struggle/test of willpower and patience with a dose of medical condition thrown in for good measure.

In brief - for reasons known only to her (as she refuses to explain this current trend), Otter has decided that bodily functions that the rest of us find involuntary are merely optional for her. This has had several results:

Stomach aches, which lead to...
Daily 5am wake ups, which lead to...
HIGHLY unhappy parents and child, alike.

On the upside, we are saving on diapers.

The battle came to a head, so to speak, 2 nights ago, when Otter decided to finally answer Nature's call, only to discover that her body was being less than cooperative. What transpired was 45 minutes of child screaming, parents coaxing, Internet searches, calls to the doctor's answering service (after hours, of course), hugs, tears, crazed attempts at any viable remedy, all culminating in partial success and exhausted collapse in sleep by all of us, only to repeat the following morning.

By the next day, Operation Poopy Otter had been hatched. New menu guidelines were drawn up. Words of encouragement were uttered. Bree was dispatched for mysterious medicines that, at best, looked mildly menacing. SB was going to poop if it was the last thing she did.

To take a soft left turn here... Have you ever noticed how utterly unhelpful directions on children's medicines are? They all claim to offer useful suggestions on how to best administer said remedy, conveniently overlooking the fact that no 2-year-old is actually going to cooperate with their instructions. For example:

Have child lay on their left side bringing up their knees and relaxing their arms.

The rest of the drivel is irrelevant, as the battle of medicine vs. toddler was lost at "have child lay." What 25-month-old is going to stay still, let alone lie down, for over 5 seconds without first being seriously sedated? And how am I supposed to administer the downers to begin with?! Perhaps the phrasing should have been:

Gather medicine, your iPhone, and 2 other able-bodied adults. Convince toddler that you're going to be looking at 'mommy's phone." Lay child down on side as best as possible. Have Adult #1 sit on the phone side of the configuration, distracting toddler by shaking the phone, talking about how much fun this is going to be, while simultaneously positioning him/herself to control flailing arms and legs. Adult #2 should be positioned on the opposite side, on the ready for when Adult #1 inevitably loses his/her grip. Grab medicine, and work gently, yet with lightening speed to administer before your child breaks free from all restraints and runs for the hills.

Sure you may need a bigger box to fit it all, but THAT would be helpful, and far closer to what actually happens.

Still, I am smarter (or at least stronger) than a pre-schooler, and after two mornings of hand-to-hand combat, we seem to have won the battle, if not the war. But perhaps I shouldn't be so self-congratulatory quite yet, as SB seems to have already parlayed her digestive issues into a new scheme of extending her bedtime. Last night, she waited until she was already in her crib and ready for lights out before announcing, "Want to poopy. Poopy on bed."

After all we've been through, how can I say no?