The Potty Diaries. Chapter 2.

I've said it before. Parenting is poo. And what I mean is parenting involves poo. Lots of it. If I had known how much poo I'd be dealing with, I'd have asked for a raise. And then I would have hired a nanny with said raise to deal with all the poo. It's everywhere. And it never stops. Just when you think you've graduated to a non-poo related stage, the kids come home telling poo jokes. Shit.

And when it comes to po{o}tty training, I get an F. For reals. I hate it. I wrote about it here a few years ago when we were beating training Sawyer. So now I can't believe that we are knocking on the potty training door for Saxon. Well, we aren't actually. It's less of a knock on the door and more of a lock ourselves in the panic room type of sitch.

He's not ready. At all. He's 2.5 and if there was a kid who cared less than Sawyer about taking care of business on the potty, it's Saxon. Double shit. So for now, I'm enjoying my final months year as a mom with a kid in diapers.

Or so I thought...

...because it happened. I had heard of it happening before. I had felt sorry for friends who it had happened to {and secretly thanked God that it had never happened to me}.

And then it happened to me.

With the end of my diapering career in sight and nearing the finish line I kind of thought I was going to escape my early parenting years without having to deal with this, er, mess.

I walked into Saxon's room yesterday mid-nap time - and I saw what I thought only happened to my friends.

That's right. Saxon was PLAYING WITH HIS POO. And was ok with it. He was not upset. He was not grossed out. Actually, he was smiling now that I think about it.

MY SON TOOK OFF HIS DIAPER AND PLAYED WITH HIS POO!!

I don't really know what else to say about it because I'm still so disgusted.

Here were my initial thoughts:

OMG.

WTF!?

Who do I call?

Dammit. Where's the nanny?

Shit. We don't have one.

I really need a raise.

Is there a hotline for this?

There should be a hotline for this.

Call the pediatrician?

Too early for boarding school?

He's grounded.

Does he need a tetanus shot?

I really should have cut his fingernails last week.

OMG.

{Gagging}

And so on...

Really!? Three kids and it was bound to happen with one of them...what started as copying Daddy with one hand down his pants had turned into Columbus discovering new log land.

It was EVERYWHERE. So I did what any other mom would do.

Me: Eric! Get in here!

Eric {out of breath from sprinting to Saxon's room thinking that there was a real problem}: What! What is it?

Me: It's fucking shit. It's everywhere Eric!

Eric: Why are you yelling!?

Me: Because it's disgusting and {gagging} I'm upset that our kid plays with his poo. It's obviously your fault.

And then we {and by we I mean Eric} cleaned him up and {I} poured a glass of wine. And duck taped his diaper shut and pulled out the baby mittens. And went online looking for support groups.

Just when you think you've got this parenting shit down...