"(speaking to the camera) What the hell's going on? I lost my show, I lost my best friend, I lost my girl. I'm being shit on, that's all, shit on, and you know what really pisses me off — [camera pans away] " -- Wayne Campbell
Do you remember that scene in Wayne's World? My life is like that, except around here, the shit isn't metaphorical.
Just a minute, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Did you know that preschooler poop is like grown-up poop, only it gets pooped into a Pull-Up and I have to do all the ass-wiping? As you may be able to imagine, I am WAY over the ass-wiping. And the poop. Because of this, we've gone cold turkey, and Will is using the potty.
Sweet Jesus, if only it were that simple. And it would be that simple, if by "using the potty" I really meant "crapping his pants at random and occasionally peeing on the rug." All, however, is not lost! There is good news! If by "good" you mean "crazy-making": apparently, the kid has full control of his sphincter, because he can pinch it tightly closed when he's naked and his mother is keeping close track of his movements, loosing the tide, as it were, only when his bottom is comfortably swaddled in cloth (underwear) or paper (Pull-Up).
No one, and I do mean no one, should ever have to spend this much time thinking about poop.
Will managed to poop in the potty exactly one time today. This was after much cajoling and bribery on the part if his desperate mother, who violated a Cardinal Law today: DO NOT SHOW FEAR. Bees and dogs can smell it, and SO CAN THREE-YEAR-OLDS. He is now the proud owner of a goldfish (don't ask), and I am the proud owner of three pairs of shitty underwear (size XS), a pee stain on the area rug under my dining table, and a peed-on king-size mattress pad (note to self: make untrained child nap in his own bed the first time he naps in underwear).
The piece de resistance? Wiping poop off Will's fingers after he stuck them in his butt. God, that was awesome.
And then? AND THEN?! Superbaby puked on the freshly laundered and just reinstalled king-size mattress pad. Before I even got to put sheets over it.
I am going to go lick my wounds and read my People magazine. Brangelina's twins suddenly seem very important.
my sympathies. commando is the way to go.
i was covetting that brangelina people issue, but couldn't bring myself to buy it. can i come to your house and read it?
good luck.
Posted by: mamadaisy | August 13, 2008 at 08:40 AM