I hate talking about poo. I really do. My long time friends know this is a subject I avoid. Ask my in-laws about my disgust and quick dinner table departures if the subject of their kids’ poo came up. I HATED the thought of a children’s book titled, “Everyone Poops.” Now, I own it.
Like any closet shame, it’s time I share; my name is Kate and my Tiny Fashionista won’t poop. And now I must talk about it. Every. Single. Day.
For parents out there that have a “holder” you will sympathize and understand every raw, disgusting word of this. For those, like the old me, without kids, or with kids without poop problems feel free to skip this post. I get it, and I’ll see you next week.
We have been battling this epidemic for over a year. It starts with a little creeping thought…hmmm. “Doesn’t seem like I’ve changed a poopy diaper in a few days.” Then, hmmmm, “did she go at all this week?”
Then there are the horrible grunting noises that you mistake for, “oh my kid is trying to go.” In reality these are the sounds of a child desperately trying to hold in a poo that wants to escape. (Queue crazy eyes…this is a real thing.)
And, of course there are the fights, the pleas, the closed door deals…”PLEEEASSEEE, if you poop I’ll buy you a puppy. Seriously, whatever you want I’ll buy it, just please for the love of Christ and all things holy…just poop!!!”
For Tiny, this holding stage started long before potty training. I’m not sure if its her “type A I need to control everything, including when I poop personality” or the fact that she had a couple of doozies that hurt and now she’s gun shy (she has a mind like a steal trap, and also apparently a butt), but the reality is, it doesn’t matter, if you have a kid that won’t poop, it’s maddening.
We’ve had doctor appointments that led to conversations about fiber intake, daily doses of Miralax, pro-biotics, potty charts and prize boxes. I’ve read books, with title’s like “It’s No Accident” and blogs suggesting it’s a phase. But we’re tired. Oh, so very tired.
Poop is coming between us. Or, err, the lack of poop is coming between me and my best girl. (There’s a sentence I never thought I’d type. See?!? What has become of me?) Number two is the number one thing we fight about. We are both frustrated.
So, if you are waging a Poop War, like me, here are the tips I’ve gathered in my year of research and desperation. These have helped win some battles, but until I get a grip on my own frustration I doubt I’ll see poopoo waving the white flag of surrender. I am no Master General, merely a foot soldier in this messy battlefield with some real tactical experience searching for “land mines.” And here are a few things I’ve learned in the trenches…