Poop. My Life is All About Poop.

I’m not kidding. My life has been reduced to poop. Not in emotional aspects. We’re doing fine in that aspect. But literally, we’re just consumed in poop issues in the FireFamily home as of late. We don’t make it a day without discussing poop in some form or fashion. I’m pooped. And apparently a funny lady.

You see, as a breastfeeding Mama, my job is to count poop-filled diapers in order to make sure that LittleBrother is eating enough. This is made easier by the fact that we cloth diaper. Because, as my brain is on fifty different poop related topics during the day, it will turn evening and I will realize, “Oh! Poop! I forgot to count poop-filled diapers!” Then I take our trusty hanging pail downstairs and start tossing diapers in the washing machine. One, two, three, four… okay! We’re good!

But it doesn’t end there. No. Not at all.

BigBrother is moving towards more potty training/learning. We’ve been stalled for awhile. It was partially suggested by our pediatrician to skip training over the holidays because the changes in routine (what routine, by the way?) and location are hard for someone learning to follow body cues. And, well, we couldn’t have done it during that time anyway because BigBrother has been on a potty strike. We’re not quite sure why. But if you even mention sitting on the “big potty,” well, he freaks out. Forget actually going in the potty.

But he’s got all the readiness cues. I bought The No Cry Potty Training Solution as it was recommended by some others and I was basically clueless as to how to proceed. The nice checklist at the beginning of the book places BigBrother in the ready category. He can put on his own pants. He likes to wash his hands. He knows what we, referring to FireMom and FireDad, do on the potty. He knows the proper words for actions. And he runs and hides when he is pooping. So, he’s ready. But he’s just not doing it. (I haven’t got to that part of the book yet. It just arrived the other day.)

And he now knows what poop feels like. In his hand. Mmhmm.

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I darted downstairs yesterday morning to throw in some diaper laundry. (See? More poop!) BigBrother was lounging on LittleBrother’s Boppy, taking advantage of his solo-time in the morning. When I came back upstairs, I was about to round the corner and head down the hall when I noticed it. His hand. With something really dark all over his fingers. I knew, in an instant, what it was but I really wanted it to be something else. I got closer and said, “What is on your hand?”

Poop!”

Augh.

So, as I washed his hands, I explained the importance of not touching our poop with our hands because it is dirty. I did so in a remarkably calm manner even though my head was screaming, “OMGPOOP!” I stayed calm because I don’t need this kid to be even more freaked out about poop and toilet related stuff. He didn’t seem too phased. But he didn’t reach in and grab any other poops during the day. So maybe the message worked.

But it was then that I realized that, oh yeah, I’d like to be done with poop issues sooner than later and, yeah, my friends can continue having kids. I’ll just pass them back when their diapers need changing. Good grief.

All that said, I need to finish the book but, well, any ideas for a child who has all of the readiness signs for potty training but a lack of desire to actually sit and do the deeds? Obviously, we’re still on the early end of the scale but this is just one issue of parenting that leaves me stumped.

Poop.

 

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How Long Before This Groove Changes?

OMGMA! Get Him OFF OF ME!We’re in an interesting and workable groove over here at the FireHouse. I wrote before about how I was getting used to parenting two. I’m continuing to slip into the role, taking on the Overtired Mother of Two role quite well. I’ve started making actual dinners instead of heating up a frozen pizza. I’m mostly caught up on laundry, diaper and clothing alike. I’ve started making it to Wednesday night Bible Study as well instead of just Sunday morning service. And the morning groove we’ve hit is working for me.

It’s going to change now that I wrote that, isn’t it?

You see, it’s just nice. BigBrother is waking up sometime in the early seven o’clock hour. Sure, that’s rather early after a night of feeding and cuddling and otherwise parenting into the early morning hours with LittleBrother. But you can’t explain that to a two year old. So, you roll out of bed, fumble for your glasses on the nightstand, throw on your robe and start your day. BigBrother and I mosy out to the living area. He settles in with books and toys while I get his milk and waffle. He eats and plays while I work. For about two hours.

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That’s right. Two hours.

LittleBrother has been sleeping well into the nine o’clock hour for about four days now. That gives me enough time to do my editing work and write one article and, apparently, a blog over here as well. Also? I can have a cup of coffee (or two) and my yogurt without holding a baby as well. If I didn’t desperately need to use that time to get work done, I’d probably also shower. But showering is overrated when you have kids, dontcha know? They’re just going to spit up on you. Or, if you have a night like we had the other night, pee on you. And I’m not talking LittleBrother either. (Apparently our evening groove needs some work.)

I did nothing to create this, let me tell you. I’m just taking full advantage of what has been going on. I know that infants change their sleep patterns more than toddlers change diapers so I’m awaiting yet another change. Of course, now that he’s officially two months (and one day) old, wouldn’t it be nice if the next change was sleeping through the night? BigBrother did. And yet, when I look at the two of them, I know that LittleBrother is cutting his own path through life. I’m thinking that sleeping through the night is totally not important to him right now. And that’s okay. I work in my robe.