There are no guarantees- but I am pretty sure (KNOCK ON WOOD, DAMNIT) that by mentioning that both the boys have been completely potty trained for a good while now won’t send them tailspinning into pants-peeing regression like it has in the past. I’m serious. It’s called a jinx. YES I am a grown woman and I believe in the power of the jinx. You laugh now, but just you wait. No, really. Wait a second. I need to throw some salt over my shoulder.
I don’t think it needs to be said- but not having to use diapers is FANTASTICAL. Running back and forth to the bathroom for assists isn’t exactly like a day at the amusement park- but it’s better than having to pull legs back over a kid’s head and wipe between the line while they wiggle and squirm, occasionally dousing you in whatever just so happens to be coming out. Yeah, we’ve all been there. If you don’t recall a time when that has ever happened to you as a parent (or babysitter)- it’s likely your brain has blocked it out. Be thankful for that.
Sadly, there is nothing that can erase the memory of Parker projectile shitting over a foot across the nursery or having to manually unplug his butt. And Holden’s.
It’s a wonder I still find the subject of poop to be so amusing.
Although I consider both kids “potty trained”- there is still the occasional accident. They get distracted playing and don’t realize they need to go (or just don’t feel like getting the fuck up) until it’s too late, or maybe the urge very suddenly came on SO strong that there was no stopping its force (yeah, do we all remember that story?) Shit- there are even times where the boys just don’t fully grasp why I tell them to “PUSH THE PECKER DOWN” when they sit to pee before squeezing out some chocolate soft serve and they soak their pants.
Accidents happen! And they likely will for the next few years. And if the kids are anything at all like me (and I get the terrible wonderful feeling that they are)- they might even crap their pants a couple of times in adulthood. SHIT happens.
That’s what I need to keep telling myself- SHIT HAPPENS. It does. The sphincter is a cruel trickster and enjoys watching us suffer at times. Usually after a meal with a very spicy or very rich sauce.
I need to keep telling myself this because this shit that keeps happening keeps happening to Holden. About once a month or so, he will have a day or even DAYS where I have to force him to change his underwear three times because I keep finding poop in it. And not just a streak. Not a FULL ON turd- but enough to be like “Dude… what the hell?”
|That’s right- RUN.|
I had begun to think he was regressing just like he did after Parker was born and he shat himself for nearly 6 months straight and we played many-a-round of the “Find that Turd” game.
Why? Maybe… because he started school. It is quite a big change for a child who had never been in a learning environment with other children before. Or… maybe it was because it takes him FOREVER to pinch a loaf and he just didn’t feel comfortable doing so at school? Dumping in a public place is a common fear. Especially when the bathroom is IN the room and everyone can hear you… but I don’t think he feels that level, or ANY level of shame just yet. Although, I do have a friend who to this day cannot go #2 without stripping completely naked; maybe Holden is one of those? Obviously trying to pull that off at school wouldn’t work out well.
It was honestly baffling to me why a 5 year old who had basically been potty trained since before he was 2 years old would randomly go on pants-crapping sprees. Did he like to see me suffer? Did he enjoy the sound of my dry heaves? Did he like having to bend his ass over the bathtub so I could do a crack sweep? Did he just enjoy the feeling off buttcrust against his skin? Really… what is the appeal? Nevermind, I don’t want to know. I just wanted it to STOP, but how can you stop something if you don’t know the root cause?
There were days I would walk into the child’s room and wake him up from a deep slumber and he would bashfully announce “there’s poop in my underwear”
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU SLEEP POOPING? ARE YOU TRYING TO DRIVE ME INTO AN EARLY GRAVE??
As much as you try to stay calm in situations like these, knowing your kid has been walking around with crap in his crack for WHO knows how long, and has wiped that crappy crack all over your brand new couch, stood behind you when you cooked, sat right next to you, played a fun board game- and you NEVER knew…
Well I don’t know if that says more about the kid or me- but really. Enough is enough. I appreciate a good poo but a good poo to me is when that poo hits the potty water and NOWHERE ELSE.
Last weekend, he went on another one of these streaks. By the third pair of underwear in 8 hours and sitting next to Mr. Poopy pants while sniffing the air and wondering aloud where it was coming from with no response from the culprit- I finally just sighed and said “Why? WHY? WHY???????? I don’t understand WHY? Just tell me WHY”
And Holden, I imagine sensing my complete and utter frustration with the ongoing situation, ever-so eloquently says to me
“Mommy… There’s always poop in my underwear because I always have wedgies when my poop starts coming out”
So basically… It’s Thomas’ fault, ’cause that kid sure as hell didn’t get his gigantic underwear swallowing ass from me.
I will remember that the next time I find multiple tractor tracks in Holden’s underwear, and now instead of cringing- I will laugh. Well, I’ll still cringe- but I’ll laugh too. And then force Thomas to clean it up, because dat ass is hereditary.
@DianeAuten I'm so glad you're enjoying it!
I don't know what I want for dinner, but I can guarantee it's not any of the 14 things my husband will suggest.
@ThisIsAstartes Best worst little shits on the planet.
What's that smell? A lot of pants on fire. pic.twitter.com/bVK0FnJgeB
I'm officially done parenting. Here's how I did it: holdinholden.com/2018/01/im-o…
I’m Officially Finished Parenting. Here’s how I did it goo.gl/fb/TBJQPJ