Pooparazzi, Part II

Back by customer demand is a sequel to my ever-popular Pooparazzi post.  And while I have high-hopes for the popularity of this post, too, I have to admit, there’s something way cuter about baby poop than there is about toddler poop.  It’s pretty gross, actually.  Because it’s pretty much adult poop…in a fun-colored toilet.  Not so fun.

So here it goes with a (toddler-sized) turd update.

I’ll start at the beginning…It was January 21st at about 6:00pm.  Yup.  Right before tubby time.  That was the first time our dear little W sat on his potty and went pee!  My husband was getting him ready for his bath and, nonchalantly, suggested W go pee on the potty before his bath and then my husband walked into the closet to get his stuff ready for the next day, leaving W with some peace and quite.  Next thing I knew, my husband was at the top of the stairs asking me if I put water in W’s potty because it had started singing.  The answer was a big fat, NOPE!  He must have gone pee on his potty!

But, because he’s two and enjoys the word “no” (accompanied by a furrowed brow and little head shake), it would be another 37 days until we could scream and shout and celebrate over something in our little potty.

But it was worth the wait.  Because you know what he did a whole 37 days later!?

HE POOPED ON THE POTTY!  And two days later he PEED TWICE ON THE POTTY!

Similar to his first pee on the potty, he pooped on the potty very unexpectedly.  We’d just taken a shower and I encouraged him to go pee on his potty.  He tried a few times but then said no and didn’t seem interested.  So, I let it be. While in the closet getting dressed, he peed a tiny drop on the rug and I rushed him in to the potty again and sat him down.  Knowing that we had success last time when he was left alone, I walked back into the closet to finish getting ready.  Before I knew it, literally 30 seconds later, he came running into the closet shouting, “Poo poo!  Poo poo!”

I was thinking he had to go poop so I started towards his room in a hurry, not wanting him to poop on our white closet rug.  But, W pulled me over to his little potty and again said, “Poo poo! “Poo poo!” and pointed this little gem…

Totally gross.
Toddler sized turds are, well, totally gross.

Holy, crap.  Literally.  A poop in the potty means a poop that is not smooshed and smeared all over his diaper and butt.  Amen.  And, he was SO PROUD of his poop.  If he weren’t buck naked in the picture I’d post that, too.  And just two short days later he decided to take TWO – count ’em two – pees on his potty.

So where does this leave us?

I have no freaking idea.  I haven’t read the first thing about potty training.  I can’t even imagine my tiny human going to the bathroom all on his own, given that he can’t really pull up or pull down his pants yet.  So…I guess it’s just a start.  He seems to have fun using the potty, but honestly, he also doesn’t give a crap (pun intended) if he has a poop in his pants.

To be continued…

Yours truly,

MomME

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Pooparazzi

Why is it that when we become parents, it’s suddenly OK to start taking (and sending) pictures of poop?  Sure, it’s your child’s poop, but come on, it’s still poop!

Nonetheless, I’ve become oddly obsessed (and strangely proud) of W’s poops, especially since he’s started solids.  So much so, I feel the need to snap a pic and send to my hubby while he’s at work.  As if that’s really what he wants to see on his lunch break.  But, now that I’m a SAHM, validation of my productivity and stellar work are no longer in the form of praise from my boss…or recognition on a team call…or leading conversion rates in a data report.  Input and output have a WHOLE new meaning now…and I look for validation of my life-sustaining skills in a size 3 diaper.

Since no one’s here to see it, though, and it quickly makes its way into the trash, I guess I feel the need to document it and prove its existence.  As poor W is laying on his changing table, cute little butt exposed and vulnerable, I sometimes wonder, Is this what Kim Kardashian feels like?  People snapping any shot they can get, the worse the better?  Well, whatever, W doesn’t seem to mind.  In fact, he loves the iPhone.  So, onward with documenting the nasty.

Just call me the pooparazzi.  Validation of my new career now comes in so MANY different shapes…sizes…textures.  Yum.  Here’s a few I’m especially proud of:

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The “Play dough” poop – this was the second poop in a post-constipation trilogy.  It was pretty malleable… (The first was the “I haven’t pooped in 5 days pellet.”  It literally rattled around in his diaper.  Poor little guy).

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The “liquid lava” poop.  An explosion of poop.  Enough said.

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The “sweet potato soft serve” poop.  I was lucky enough to be changing him when he decided to squeeze this one out onto a wipe.

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The “Mommy, you didn’t pack an extra pair of pants for YOU?” poop.  Luckily this happened at my nursing group, though we were on our way to Whole Foods.  The lady behind me in line at the quesadilla counter thought it was REALLY funny.  Yeah.

NOTE:  Honorable mention goes to several others whose existence wasn’t captured –  the frothy “avocado” poop, the “I haven’t pooped in 5 days” pellet and the “fully intact green bean” poop.

Yours poo-ly,

MomMe