The Mom Diary 3

It wasn't until my son started eating solids and later stopped breastfeeding that I genuinely missed his newborn and infant stools. I miss the poop that was made up mostly of breast milk before there was intoxicating smells and a multitude of textures; this caused by small humans consuming "solid" foods providing their bodies with numerous colorful nutrients and fats. I miss the poop that made me feel like I wasn't changing a small human but more like one of those “do it all babies” you buy from the toy store. I miss the relief (and the break from changes) that came with knowing it was normal for your breastfed infant to go without pooping for days, as breastfed infants more often take longer digesting milk and breaking down nutrients as compared to formula fed babies. Some stools would be up to four days apart. And almost over night was I subject to one of the worst smells I could fathom, only to realize my infant didn't look so much like a baby doll anymore. As I close in on the sleeping young human I cringe as I realize; I was living in a privileged poop fantasy.

When you have a baby no one will tell you that you'll spend the next few years thinking about poop as often as us parents of toddlers do. The relief I gained from having a breastfed baby quickly became stress as to making sure he was getting a healthy stool in each day, his new diet consisting of solids, changed the rate his body processes food. Worst of all I am traumatized by the copious amount of colors and textures I have to witness everytime I change a diaper. Brown and runny, green with chunks and oh my goodness what are you eating, I've yet to witness this color on all of earth; I transition from acceptance of being a designated diaper changer to googling, “how young is too young to start potty training?”

As most nights my 23 month old is able to get through without wetting himself do I learn with research; now is the perfect time to start practicing pooping on the toilet. This ball game only overwhelms me more as I discover as uninterested I am in his complex human feces; he holds complete curiosity. Which by definition means, literally touching poop. And then where there is no curiosity he holds confusion. Frustrating me with his capability to know he has to poop let alone demanding privacy as he squats in his pamper, tucked behind a couch or in a closet. And just as you think this s**t can't get any worse (quite literally) does your little independent being decide that they're much too busy to be changed therefore would rather run from you every chance they get than lie down so that you can humiliate them with wiping their very gross butts. As my journey with potty training has only just begun I can only speculate through our current efforts on how smooth this will go, which is probably as smooth as his last passed lumpy green stool.

Let's face it; if we had a dollar for everytime we gagged, dramatically gasped or just literally got pooped on no one would have to pay for diapers again. And in between watching my toddler duck behind furniture to relieve himself in privacy and him trying to grab poop out of the toilet; do I settle for an awkward place in between where I continue to work as a both a diaper slave and explain to my son that “our butts go on the big white seat when we have to poo.” As my son continues to grow I am constantly reminded that nothing in the realm of raising him will remain constant and as comfortable as I may have been in his earlier days full of odorless poop I take pride in the fact that this horrific poop phase and potty training experience; like everything with my toddler, will soon come to an end.