Poop

I've been informed that reading my blog is a bit like watching Marley & Me - you know the tears are gonna spill but you can't help but finish.  One coworker told me she sat at the nurse's station & bawled while reading Reese's birth story.  Ben said he watched a grown man silently weep when he read about Reagan's reaction to her little sis.  Facebook messages confirm that if you want a good cry, go read about baby Reese.  While I appreciate how much everyone has fallen in love with our precious little, I don't want you to feel the need to be armed with a tissue each time a I share a story about Reese.

So, in an effort to lighten things up, let's talk about poop.

As a nurse, I feel I'm desensitized to poop in general.  As a parent, I've noticed the bowel habits of my children are often the main topic of conversation in this household.  As a wife to a man with a sense of humor that rivals that of any third-grader, I've been subjected to countless tales where defecation is the moral of the story.  That being said, I was NOT prepared for the events of the past week.

Reagan is almost two.  As a subscriber to more than one parenting magazine, I am well aware that some kiddos are potty-trained as early as 18 months.  Not one to be outdone, I thought it was time to get the ball rolling around here.  I've not been looking forward to the potty-training process.  Dreading it is a more accurate description.  You see, Reagan has been battling some pretty severe constipation issues since she was just a wee one.  Severe enough to be on a very strict daily dose of Miralax.  Miss a dose & she turns into a demon - a butt-clenching, back-arching, red-faced demon. 

Imagine my surprise when she willingly, almost gleefully, assumed the position on her very own potty (she insisted on being nude before christening her throne - hopefully this is not a recurring theme).

Bert, as always, is a very interested observer

I thought she would sit for a moment & then lose all interest until I heard the unmistakable sound of pee trickling into the bottom of the basin.  Winning the Powerball couldn't be sweeter.  A full-blown celebration ensued with a lot of clapping & jumping & high-fiving going on.  Ben ran in to determine the source of all the ruckus & I exclaimed we had the smartest almost-2-year-old on the block.  Potty-training was gonna be a breeze.

Proof

As I was cleaning out the aforementioned urine, I heard a shriek of excitement followed by intense clapping from our bedroom.  I rushed out to find this...

 Yep, that's what you think it is

Apparently Reagan thinks only pee goes in the potty.   Poop, on the other hand, goes on the carpet in the corner of mom & dad's bedroom.  We've got some work to do.

Not to be outdone by her big sis, Reese thought she would add to the poopy shenanigans for the evening.  I've changed a lot of diapers.  Fortunately, I've been able to avoid the projectile poop that so many other parents have described.  I've secretly attributed this success to my mad skills & super speedy technique.  Apparently Reese thought it was time to put me in my place.

 Seriously?

Seriously gross

Time for a shower & then bed.  I'm pooped.