Today would be the day that I would earn my motherhood "Brown Wings" O Internets.
Today was the "Dies Rrhea", if you will.
You will never understand the meaning of loving a person DESPITE IT ALL unless you’ve had to clean up this person’s poop from white carpet while reassuring them that they didn’t do anything wrong — that mommy loves them and that she is not seething with anger and disgust.
Herr Meow, as is common at this age, likes to explore his defecation options.
He might be upset someday when he reads that particular sentence. I think it’s imperative that he reads it, because he needs to understand what his mother did for him (i.e. clean his bowel movement while refraining from rubbing his muzzle in it) and how she cared for him. Plus, this is nothing new: mothers (and fathers) have been cleaning up crap since the dawn of time, both literally and metaphorically.
So anyway. He has mastered the art of removing his diaper ("dah-purr" or "pahn-hall" if he’s feeling bilingual); he sits to pee about twice a day in his potty; he knows that he doesn’t like to be dirty; and he is EXTREMELY communicative when he’s about to poop.
This is the tricky part though: he hates to poop when people are around.
So he will start his tugging-at-diapie bit, followed by the preliminary strain-and-grunt noise and he’ll start turning red and then he’ll get the Look Of Intense Pleasure and Concentration going. And when questioned about whether he’s pinching a loaf he’ll quickly say, "Noooooo" while turning red.
And if he’s doing this over the potty with us present, he’ll stop trying, get off the pot and ask for dah-purr.
And he goes off and poops in some secluded corner of the house. Or he’ll hide behind some furniture, or he’ll hold a book over his face and pretend that no one can see him poop.
Or he tries to be a clever boy and spreads a disposable changing mat and then poops just one inch off from where the mat ends, so he can poop somewhere with a view.
And when he’s done, he comes to get his mother, the sweet little huggy boy, who proceeds to do the following:
1 .Panic and repeat to self "I KNEW he would do that today!"
2 .Try to suppress torrent of bad words anxious to spout off mouth.
3. Tell him he did well.
4. Then tell him that next time he should try the potty because mommy isn’t thrilled to clean poop off the carpet.
5. Fume inwardly and wonder if I’m going to give him a complex.
6. Get on the internet.
7. Find precious angel sent from above in the guise of Army Wife, Toddler Mom and her post on cleaning poop off carpet in three easy steps.
8. Rejoice in the fact that I aim to keep a well-stocked house and it hasn’t failed me now– golden rays shine forth from the bottle of hydrogen peroxide that lives under the bathroom sink.
9. Pick-up the poo as thoroughly as possible.
10. Gag a little.
11. Realize I’ve only done this with cats before.
12. Further realize that at least cats don’t have the option of telling their friends and peers in the future about how their mother traumatized them when they crapped all over the carpet.
13. Dab, dab, dab, dab, repeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat.
And voilá. (Thank Jebus!)
I can laugh now. In fact, I love poop. I do– try me.
Anyone out there have any poop merriment to share? Or, for that matter, any cleanup tips?