Positive Feedback Poop

"Mommy I just went poo poo!" Gio exclaims almost as excitedly as I do when I poop. "Houston we have touchdown!"

Thrilling his bowel movement would be if he didn't do it all day. As in every time he sits down on the potty. Now he poops more often than he brushes his teeth, but only by a slim margin. I know how important teeth brushing is, but he brushes before meals, after meals and almost every time he walks into the bathroom. Teeth brushing 8. Pooping 9.

I am not complaining. It is much better than the diaper alternative. He has learned to poop at will, not unlike great actresses who can shed a tear drop in the blink of an eye. And now I can soundly say I have wiped his butt more in the last three weeks, than I have wiped my own, in my whole entire life.

I know, since I suffer from constipation, and safe toilet syndrome, constipation on strange toilets, my wiping experience pales in comparison to say, someone with regular bowel movements. But still.

And during wiping, poop often manages to find its way onto my hand. Did someone say, "Ewwwwwwww!?" Yes, parenting has caused me to squat to new lows I never thought myself capable of.

The other day while Gio was taking a shower I mistakenly left a small Tupperware^TM container in the shower.

"Mommy I neeeeeeed you!" he yells.

"Yes, what do you need?" I ask

"I just peed in here," he says smiling and holding up the container.

Upon inspection it didn't look even slightly yellow so I say, "Pour it out." Yes, I have reached a new parenting low.

"In here?" he asks referring to the bathtub doubting my words.

"Yes," I say. He complies.

"Mommy I neeeeeeed you!" he yells five minutes later. Yes, we take long showers, sorry Planet Earth.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I pooped in here!" he shouts.

I was out of eyesight range and I feared he had pooped in the bathtub. "Oh no," I think knowing this has the potential to be another one of those "poop just got on me" moments. Go ahead say it, "Ewwwwwww!"

I walk in the bathroom and he is holding up the Pooperware^TM bowl. I move in to get a closer look and there are two tiny poops in there, swimming around like goldfish from the fair. Yes, the same fish that die the day after they are brought home. Then the battle began to rage in my head.

"Should I take a picture of this? Is that going too far, even for me? No, don't take the picture it will stink up the blog. But it would be a great picture. This is a great photo opportunity I am passing by." Right now I really wish I had taken the picture. Oh wait. What is this picture?????


"Give that to me," I say. "Out to the ocean you go, Nemo. Swim and be free. All toilets lead to the sea. And most of all, please don't touch me!"