I have two small children. This means I spend a lot of time cleaning up poop.Now when I can get to it before it leaves the diaper, I can usually handle it. I don’t enjoy this task, and still do everything in my power not to touch the poop, but I will clean it up without anything happening. My daughter, she hates her poop, and she is sure to let me know that she hates her poop.
Sometimes I don’t notice the poop right away. I could be busy with our four-year-old, or cleaning something. So our one-year-old has decided to take the removal of poop into her own hands. Now this could be a very literal description of the event.
She Hates her Poop and Makes sure I know it.
She will stick her hand down her pants and pull out a hand full of poop. If I am “lucky” she will then show it to me. Other time she will find some surface, the carpet, a wall, the iPad, to wipe the poop off her hand before she goes back for a second helping. She will then come find me, show me her hand, and laugh as I start to clean up the work of our little Poop Picasso. (If she does go into art I plan to call this her poop period).
Sometimes, just a hand full won’t do and she removes her entire diaper. Again she finds me and smiles, proud that she took it off all by herself. I look on in horror as I try to grab her before she sits on our nice beige carpet. If you have ever seen a dog scoot his butt across the floor you can picture what just happened.
It is after I have cleaned this up I realize the true horror. The dirty diaper she discarded is nowhere to be seen. I now have the most depressing Easter egg hunt ever as I search closets, toy boxes, and hampers for a poop filled diaper. For those wondering yes I do make this a game offering my four-year-old a cookie if she can find it first.
[tweetthis]If you had a dog scoot his butt across the floor you can picture what my 2yr old did.[/tweetthis]
But When Mom’s Home….
Maybe this is why I take such joy on the weekends when it is my wife’s turn. When our youngest poops I simply call her and leave the room. When I hear “NO! STOP! OH MY GOD?!? What did you eat, DON’T TOUCH THAT! ” come from the other room, I just smile, knowing that on Monday that will be my problem again but for now, it’s someone else’s.