Suburban Snapshots

Oh, the Places You'll Go

Monday, July 26, 2010

Hey so remember Poop Strike 2010? Let's not relive that. Let's not revisit the week of the malfunctioning toddler, incapable of focusing on anything lest she lose her grip on her undercarriage and accidentally allow her digestive process to come to its natural conclusion.

We don't want to go back to the days where we couldn't leave the house, because at any moment the slightest rumble in her belly would send a swinging, swimming, running outside kid darting for her blankie and the couch.

I'd hate to remind you all of the tiptoe dances, the grimaces, hours spent on bent knees in front of the toilet bribing, coaxing, begging Anna to just let it out, just let it out and your tummy will be all better/you'll get a bag of gummies/Grandma will take you to watch the airplanes/I WILL BUY YOU A GODDAMN UNICORN.

I'd hate for you to think we were uptight about the whole ordeal. I mean, it's just poop.

Hoping to avoid any probe-based interventions, on doctor's orders we started Miralax. I was in my office late in the day when I heard Steve utter five beautiful words, "You made a nice poop!" Almost immediately Anna's whole demeanor changed. She was her old self again, the happy, adorable kid I'd almost forgotten about. She's been back ever since, though we still aren't totally done with Poop Strike.

While she's no longer afraid that it's going to hurt, she hasn't quite gotten back on the potty. In the past week we've cleaned poop from 3 bathtubs, the bathroom floor, kitchen floor and dining room floor, our back yard and my in-laws' front yard. They happen to live in a condo complex where dogs aren't allowed for this specific reason.

It ought to bother me having to clean human feces off of my hardwood floors, but it's still easier than using a flimsy wipe to clean crap spackle off her butt. I've got a method for scooping it from the tub, too (am now short one slotted spoon) and so far, her eliminations at other peoples' homes have been met with understanding and empathy. I'm just so relieved she's going that I'm admittedly being lax about the logistics. Hopefully she'll work herself back to the bowl, to flushing the toilet with a chirpy "Bye-bye poop!", back to collecting that prized bag of gummies (delighting dentists within a 10 mile radius).

I hope those of you who commiserated and gave me such good advice on the last post about poop — no, not that one , the other one. No, I mean the other one. — are doing alright. How are you managing?

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