A typical conversation when picking up the kids from the in-laws goes something like this:
Grandma: The Oh pooped when he got home from school. And Happy Elf had a big one this morning.
Me: What about Dewdrop?
Grandma: Nothing yet today, just a few wet diapers.
[Later]
Sugarpop on cellphone to me: Hey, I should be home around 4:30. Did the Oh poop today?
Me: Yep and Happy Elf did too. But nothing from Dewdrop yet, but I figure after I giver her a bottle she'll blow.
The Oh, after starting him on toilet-training at 2.5, was resistant to going regularly out of both ports until this summer. The #1ing came early this summer and he's had very few accidents since. The #2ing happened later in the summer over just a few days. This is after trying everything and nothing worked. Rewards, games, cajoling, scolding, being strict, laying back, watching movies on the laptop while sitting on the throne, even resulting to suppositories up his backside and mineral oil in his apple sauce (yes we were that desperate).
We just thought at 4+ he should be doing this and it seemed like he was never going to get it and then just like that [snap] he started going. No big deal. So the advice is true; they do figure it out eventually.
The Happy Elf at 2.5 is just starting toilet school. Of course now he has an older brother who models the correct behavior. He'll probably get it a bit sooner than the Oh just because he's more laid back about things.
Which brings me to Dewdrop. Today, with Sugarpop off writing her "Special Fields Exam" for her dissertation, I was home with kids for about four hours. The Oh and Happy Elf played nicely for an hour and Dewdrop and I watched the first quarter of the Bears/Vikings game.
It always startles me when baby's explode in their diapers. Nothing to gusher in a second flat. We had recently gone up a size in diapers for Dewdrop, but I had just diapered her with one of the old smaller size ones trying to use them up. Feeling The Surge I knew she had probably had a blowout. The stain on my white t-shirt confirmed this immediately.
Stripping off her church clothes I started wiping, sitting her up to see how widespread it was, I saw that she had not only breached her diaper up her back, but the poop ran all the way up to the back of her head! Bath time! Setting her in the infant tub I began a complete wash, rinse, and repeat cycle. She didn't like it and was letting me know. She has this very effective knack of crying and looking you right in the eyes, "Why are you doing this to me?" she seems to be saying.
The racket we were causing upstairs attracted the boys from downstairs. Deep into the task of washing poop off of my daughter's entire body I was oblivious to what the boys were doing until I realized they were right behind me as I was bent over the tub. The Oh tooting a cheap, county fair plastic horn as loud as he could and Happy Elf banging on the cymbals keeping to his own beat.
I laughed and loved in that moment that with kids you never know when a concert might break out and what situation you may find yourself in.
2 comments:
Seems like they were heralding Dewdrops victorious poop! What a great system.
When my son was 6 months old he had a huge blow out, what my husband called "liquid Satan". And it ended up all over me and my son (and happened at a company social function to boot).
So is Dewdrop going to expect a concert every bath time now?
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