It’s All About Poop

Posted by Andrea R. | November 4, 2007 | 12 Comments

Another Guest Post from Andrea R. Thanks! Again. When my husband and I first were married, we talked about a lot of things. We’d go to movies and then spend the evening discussing and critiquing them. One year, we saw every movie that had been nominated for an Academy Award. We read books and then discussed them, much like you might in a good English class ”“ we talked about the characters and their motivations, plotlines, exposition, and how the stories made us feel. We talked about music ”“ exciting new independent artists breaking onto the music scene. We went to live shows and discussed what was played and which songs were our favorites. We talked about politics, culture, and ideas in the ever-changing world around us. We talked about ourselves, our individual histories, our futures together. We were young, we were hip. We had our whole lives ahead of us.

Ten years and three children later, we talk about poop. We have one son who is disabled and is on a special diet to control his seizures. This diet is very high in protein and fat, so it makes him constipated, and we have to give him a laxative. So, every day, there is a discussion about his poop. “Did E poop at school today? What was it like? What was the consistency? Do we need to increase or decrease the laxative?” If he didn’t poop at school that day, the discussion is always about checking E’s diaper to see if he pooped. There have been many accidents involving poop all over the wheelchair, the carpet, the couches, the bathtub, Mommy, Daddy, Grandparents, or other helpless individuals who happened to be in the way of the poop. So, we check for poop every few minutes, because you never know when the poop is going to come, and you want to catch the poop before it becomes a problem. We are experts at cleaning poop.

Our other two sons have constipation issues as well. We can’t really figure out why, but they’ve always had trouble, so we put prune juice in their bottles. One is 2 ½ and the other is 6 ½ months. It could be the baby’s formula or not enough vegetables in the toddler’s diet, but poop is a problem. And, as with E, the discussion about P and Z is, “Did they have a poop? When did P poop? When did Z poop? What was the consistency? Was it too hard? Too soft? Just right? Do we need to prune him up more? Did we put too much prune juice in the last bottle?” P is old enough to tell us about his poop. “Mommy, I have poop! Change my poop! I have an owie poop! No, I don’t want to poop on the potty!” If neither of us changed a poopy diaper from P or Z that day, there is a great deal of consternation and discussion about what must be done about the poop. The poop must come out! The poop must not be allowed to remain in place, or it will become hard and uncomfortable! We must master the poop!

My husband and I are well-educated, reasonably intelligent people, and what do we talk about? We talk about poop.

Category: Daily Special

Comments

12 Responses to “It’s All About Poop”

Wendy
November 5th, 2007 @ 1:08 pm

Wonderful, Maralise. I love this.
Emily M.
November 5th, 2007 @ 10:45 pm

We talk about poop too. Also vomit, and pee, and snot. All these bodily fluids and excretions. With children it is impossible to pretend them away, to be as polite, as nice, as we were before.

It gets old, true… but in a way, I think it’s also very grounding. I don’t know how to express what I mean, just that this poopy reality is smelly and real, no veneer of perfume and niceness… It’s a little too real for me, sometimes, but others, not.

I wrote a poem about mommy poop. This is a condensed version (the middle section only applied to the RS occasion I wrote it for):

What We Share

Last week
my son awoke encrusted
four mornings running:
poop caked back,
blankie, sheets.
Bewildered eyes,
trembling chin,
smelly, sad, and loud.
I toilet dunked
the jammies, bathed
his pizza colored bum,
added mattress pads
and towels to the heap
blocking my hall.
(Don’t laugh.)
I am both
cynic and disciple,
wrapped in hope:
I seek
my laundry mountain’s
deeper purpose.
. . . . .
I do not share with pioneers
frostbitten limbs,
hunger’s gnaw,
buried-baby grief.

But this, this we share:
we each have served
with only angels watching.
We have trusted
that our simple
constant acts,
and His sweet grace,
would be enough.
We have opened ears and hearts
to hear a messy baby
or another wounded human
cry.
Andrea
November 6th, 2007 @ 6:44 am

Wendy,
I loved your poem. What a beautiful perspective on life and poop.
Maralise
November 6th, 2007 @ 6:44 am

Augh! It was not me…I obviously didn’t credit Andrea appropriately. Here is another welcome guest post from Andrea Rediske. I would love to take credit for it…but alas, my Mormon-ness won’t allow me

Maralise
Lee Ann
November 6th, 2007 @ 1:22 pm

We certainly do share poop!

Our family is living the sequel now. You spend a decade talking about poop, then one day the baby bounces home from sixth grade, excited to talk about politics, economics, and religion. And you have to scramble, because you’ve been thinking about poop for a decade!
Wendy
November 6th, 2007 @ 2:36 pm

OH, it was Emily who wrote the poem, not me!
Andrea
November 6th, 2007 @ 3:07 pm

Oops! Clearly we are all having “author awareness” issues. EMILY — Great poem!
Emily M.
November 6th, 2007 @ 3:42 pm

No biggie–thanks!
pjb
November 7th, 2007 @ 10:45 pm

I am sorry to confess that in our family, we gage a babies well being by every poop ridden diaper. We go by the color, texture, smell, reaction on butt, amount, number of times per day,how big or how small of a load, and on goes the list. This is the discussion until potty training is totally complete and mom doesn’t even help with the wiping, age ?
I mean Dr.Oz probably goes into more extreme depths!
pjb
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Kimberly
July 31st, 2008 @ 10:14 pm

Oh my gosh! That made me laugh hysterically.
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