You probably saw this one coming . . .
I promise that I'll try to make this my last post about bodily functions - at least for a little while.
Last night A and I were hanging out at home while P was working. As usual, she wasn't wearing any pants (no diaper, no underwear, no nothin'). She was wearing a long knit purple dress because we had gone to church and to a baptism earlier in the day. Earlier in the evening she had peed in the potty and we had celebrated accordingly.
I was watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition out of the corner of one eye and watching the kid drag toys around out of the other. And then it happened. She was walking across the living room and paused for the tiniest fraction of a second - and then kept going. Behind her lay a piping hot turd on the carpet. It just flew out from under her skirt and hit the floor like the newspaper hits the front porch. She looked back as if to say, "Huh, I wonder how that got there?" She was not outraged or embarrassed or anything close to it.
At that moment I had been washing my face with one of those facial wash cloths. So I ran over and picked up her output with the cloth (which is how I know that it was piping hot). We flushed it and I launched into a "we don't poop on the carpet!" lecture. You remember how on the Peanuts the teachers always sounded like "womp wompa womp wa womp?" I'm pretty sure that's all my kid hears, too.
The funny thing about the incident was how nonchalantly she deposited it. From the time she was born I have never seen her expression change one iota when she is pooping. I can be face to face with her and will notice nothing. She doesn't strain or crouch down or anything like that. My nephew used to hide behind a chair when he was pinching a loaf. But not my kid. All of a sudden it is just THERE.
I have a feeling that we have a very long road ahead of us with this potty training stuff.
Last night A and I were hanging out at home while P was working. As usual, she wasn't wearing any pants (no diaper, no underwear, no nothin'). She was wearing a long knit purple dress because we had gone to church and to a baptism earlier in the day. Earlier in the evening she had peed in the potty and we had celebrated accordingly.
I was watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition out of the corner of one eye and watching the kid drag toys around out of the other. And then it happened. She was walking across the living room and paused for the tiniest fraction of a second - and then kept going. Behind her lay a piping hot turd on the carpet. It just flew out from under her skirt and hit the floor like the newspaper hits the front porch. She looked back as if to say, "Huh, I wonder how that got there?" She was not outraged or embarrassed or anything close to it.
At that moment I had been washing my face with one of those facial wash cloths. So I ran over and picked up her output with the cloth (which is how I know that it was piping hot). We flushed it and I launched into a "we don't poop on the carpet!" lecture. You remember how on the Peanuts the teachers always sounded like "womp wompa womp wa womp?" I'm pretty sure that's all my kid hears, too.
The funny thing about the incident was how nonchalantly she deposited it. From the time she was born I have never seen her expression change one iota when she is pooping. I can be face to face with her and will notice nothing. She doesn't strain or crouch down or anything like that. My nephew used to hide behind a chair when he was pinching a loaf. But not my kid. All of a sudden it is just THERE.
I have a feeling that we have a very long road ahead of us with this potty training stuff.
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