This post is about poop. Just so you know. I have a two year old, so poop is a major part of my life. Well, I have a dog, too, which means that even if I didn't have a two year old, poop would still be part of my life. Someday, I hope that poop will not be so prominent in my daily existence, and that I will just have my own poop to think about. But by that time, I perhaps will have to have somebody else around to help me with my poop, so maybe I shouldn't be wishing for that day to come after all.
My daughter, (we'll call her Little Sister) does not like diapers. That is to say, she prefers Pull-Ups that have her favorite Pixar character on them. (Yes, she's only two, and can already identify Buzzy, Woody, and Lightning McQueen. Don't judge me.) And really, if it was up to her completely, she'd be naked all the time. But my carpet is white, so I do draw the line at 24 hour nudity.
This morning, though, she had on a diaper, the one that my husband had put on her last night. I was still blurry eyed and hadn't gotten around to changing her yet, when she grabbed her bum and started to cry. It was clear that she was straining, trying to poop. And she was yanking on her diaper. So, I said, "Do you need to go potty?" She said, "Yeah. Potty" (and, by the way, let me just interject that her "yeah" is just about the cutest. thing. ever). I pulled off the diaper, and she ran into the bathroom, where her little potty sits, and she dutifully pooped a little in her potty. Success! Hooray! I couldn't believe it, and I praised her excitedly. I figured she was good to go for a while, so I let her roam free, sans diaper. (And hey, it was a rainy day, we had no plans to go anywhere, so it's not like I was neglecting her or anything. Again, don't judge me.)
Not long after that, she starts the whimpering thing again, and I check out her bum. (this is where it gets kinda graphic--those with weak stomachs should not continue...) She had a very large poop coming out, and she seemed completely freaked out about it. I took her back to the potty, thinking we could repeat the earlier performance, but no such luck. She screamed, she trembled, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and only calmed down when I sat back on the big potty and pulled her into my lap. We rocked there a second, and I cooed to her as I rubbed her tummy.
Why is she so constipated? I wondered. I rubbed her little abdomen,hoping a little massage would get things going. Is it because she's dehydrated? Did I not feed her enough fiber? And then, of course, my mind went to the more morbid. Are her kidneys enlarged, too? Are they displacing her bowels, the way mine are displacing MY bowels? I rubbed and cooed, cooed and rubbed, and worried all the while. She eventually slid off my lap, and toddled back to her room to play.
I watched her, though, mindful of her bum AND my white carpet. Sure enough, the whimpering and trembling came again, and again she wrapped her arms around my neck and begged to be held. Finally, though, I figured I couldn't do this all day, and so I simply put a CARS pull-up back on and hoped for the best.
She pooped within 5 minutes.
Hmmm, mom. Overthink much?
Perhaps, just perhaps, Little Sister is not ready for potty training. And perhaps, just perhaps, I should worry less about kidneys and just buy more Pull-Ups.