Friday, January 21, 2005

a funny... if you like potty humor

we are in the very beginning stages of Potty Learning (which used to be Potty Training, but now it's very UN-pc to train your toddler). This means that Raelin runs around without a diaper in the house, and usually without pants either, and I clean up after her with a rag when I hear the requisite, "Peeeeeeeee!" in a high-pitched voice that is decidedly, cute. You might think this is disgusting to be swabbing pee off our nice hardwood floors, or blotting it off the carpet,
but after washing cloth diapers for a year, its no big thang.

Poops on the other hand....

Now that our young Callahan is of the toddler variety, she poops less. Like an adult (thankfully, not taking after her father)- like once, maybe twice a day. And they are your usual garden variety breastmilk/solid food consistency, unless she's teething, and then there is always a diaper on. The parents in the audience are nodding in understanding. The childless are trying not to lose their last meal out the wrong end. Just wait!! It gets better.

So, this afternoon while working on my own poop (properly and sitting on the toilet, I might add), Raelin was chatting it up with me from the doorway (no, no privacy for the weary). Until I saw The Look- wide eyed, a bit shocked, and then a gutteral, "mooooommmmmmyyyyy!" as her face turns a few shades darker.

"Raelin, honey? Do you need the potty?" no matter that my pants are around my ankles and her potty is in the other bathroom. oh, and that she's never pooped in the potty before. or that there is nary a stitch between her bottom and the loose fleece pants she's wearing.

here we go again..

"Mooommmmmyyyyyy! Urghh!" and with a defiant grunt the yet unseen turd exits and I watch as my daughter lifts her right leg and gives it a little shake. By now, i'm off and buttoned up and pulling her pants down, just in time to keep a perfect golf-ball sized poop from rolling out her pant leg and plopping on the floor. I gingerly carry the pants to the toilet and shake. Flush. Scoop up now naked and legs-smeared-with-poop child under my arm like a book and make it to the other bathroom and into the tub without a smidge of poop anywhere but where it belongs.

Ah! These are the moments a Mom cherishes.

2 Comments:

Blogger Bartlebee said...

I was going to say, "Um, thanks?" but my fiance stole that line. Damn him.

10:45 AM  
Blogger keldog said...

I'm married to KC... what do you want from me?

4:24 PM  

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