lest you thought we were done talking about poop forever

Ah yes, poop.  It's made a whopping EIGHT appearances here as a post label over the years, and it's pretty much a daily topic of conversation in my life.  Seeing as the last thirteen years have seen me spending my days in the presence of preschoolers or at home with my own kids, poop is huge.  (We're going with metaphorically here, not literally.  Well, most of the time, and when it is literal, that becomes a topic of conversation, as well.  But I digress.)

It has been a while though, since I blogged about it, and seeing as I've miraculously just passed through one of those MAJOR parental milestones for the very last time, I thought it was the perfect time to add post number nine about poop.  You know what I'm talking about, seasoned mamas-- potty training!  (Can I get a whoop whoop?!)  Pudge, I do declare, is effectively regulating his own elimination needs!  Oh, what am I getting all fancy on ya for?  Pudge is peeing and pooping on his own-- no reminders, no watching the clock.  The kid simply goes from playing (or hitting his sister or annoying his brother) to strolling over to his potty and dropping trou.  He's still needing some assistance with the clean-up portion of the show, but this morning's lesson on tapping off the last drop of pee before getting up seems to have made a big impression on him, especially since he spent two whole minutes trying to show me how he can move his penis without touching it.  (TMI?  Sorry... it's all just normal fare around here...)  The coolest thing?  He's making the decision to use the "big potty" (aka the regular toilet) to do his number twos, and saving the "little potty" (aka, um, the little potty that sits on the floor) for peeing only.  Happy mama (who doesn't enjoy cleaning poop out of the little potty chamber) here! 

The whole learning-not-to-crap-your-pants thing amazes me.  It's a well-known fact that I don't give birth to easy-going children.  JAM, Red and Pudge can be described in many ways- adorable, smart, and funny as heck- but not so much laid-back or mild-tempered.  But here's the thing, and it just might be enough to make me believe in a higher being with an ounce or two of compassion-- each and every one of them potty trained quickly and without a fuss.  Yup, I'm that mom.  With each of them, I watched until it seemed like they were about 'ready,' (which was more like a feeling that I got), and I picked a day that would be convenient for us to stick close to home and forgo the diapers.  On that day, underwear were put on, and we went all in as those poker folks would say.  For JAM, he was two and a half months shy of his third birthday, and the convenience was that I was on summer break from teaching and home with him.  For Red, she was just a few months past her second birthday, and it just felt right.  For Pudge, I waited until after our family camping trip (because this selfish mama wanted the ease of diapers in the wilderness) and he's also about two and a half months from his third birthday.  For each and every one of them, by the end of three or four days, the job was accomplished.  Woo-frickin-hoo!

Somehow, the message was received:

Hey, I know you've just been letting it all out whenever and wherever you'd like for the past few years, heck, your whole life!  But guess what?  Now, I want you to stop what you're doing, and I KNOW that everything you do is VASTLY important and meaningful, even if it is just digging in the dirt from my perspective, but now I want you to stop everything when you feel that special little tingle, walk away toward this potty or that one, somehow wriggle your fat little toddler fingers into the waistband of your pants and undies, pull them down, and sit down all before you let out your pee and poop.  Okay?  You got all that?  Good.  Oh yeah, then you have to clean yourself off before you try to wrangle those clothes back up over your squishy little bottom, and THEN you can go back to playing.  Alright, I'll help you with that last part, but only for a little while, Mister.  Then you're on your own.  Oh, I almost forgot.  You've got to wash your hands, too.  Whew, can you remember all that?

Of all the amazing developments that typically happen over the first three years of life, this one about the poop and pee not being deposited into a diaper that costs us around $.60 a piece multiple times a day, this one is my favorite.  Sure, I'm still carrying around a "diaper bag" for the emergency extra clothes (that we've only had to use twice so far in two weeks!), but I now have zero children using diapers.  (Sure, I'm not counting nap and bedtimes, whatever.  Let me just have this moment, okay?)  Pretty soon, they'll all be heading off to school, I bet! 

What's that you say?  The clock is ticking?  Yes, yes.  This is my last year in the amazing (if poorly-monikered) role of stay-at-home-mom, and all of us will be heading back to school next August, but that is a post for another day.


Happy to be diaper-free,