Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Best Day Ever

I hope that this is the last poop-related post that I ever have to write. I hope that we have moved past this disgusting topic and on to a newer, more interesting subject. A girl can only hope, right?

On Thursday, my family and I went to the last softball practice before games begin. It was fun getting to see everyone outside of church and we were having a good time. they have a small playground at the center of the softball fields and there were lots of kids Z's age for her to hang out with.

When they gathered back at the bleachers for a snack, I noticed that Z had a smallish wet spot on her bottom. I asked her what had happened and she stated that she had peed in her shorts. The spot was small and on her butt, so I didn't really question it except for asking why she did not go to the bathroom that I had already taken her to twice. I really though she must have sat on something wet because, like I said, it was in the wrong area and small.

A while later I picked her up and she did smell like pee. I was angry but when we got to the car decided to strip her naked for the ride home so she wouldn't get her car seat all wet. I took off her shorts and when I did, her panties dropped down just enough for me to see that she had actually pooped in them. I was furious. I put her in her car seat with just her panties on, and proceeded to pace the parking lot as the Hubs loaded the rest of our things into the car.

When we got home, I made her strip off everything on the porch and then threw them into our trashcan. I am not washing that. It's wasteful, but at this point I don't care. The shorts were too small anyway.

I made her get in the shower and scrubbed her clean as she cried. I didn't yell, I didn't even speak - couldn't speak, because the poisonous anger that was building up in my body has no place being directed at a 3 year old.

I got her out and put pajamas on her. I tucked her in and I sat on the couch to crochet.

About 30 minutes later, I smelled poop. I looked at the Hubs, "I smell poop." "I do too," he replied. I walked into Z's room and she was curled into a tight ball, crying her eyes out.

"I just want to hold onto it, momma, I want to keep it."

I lifted the blanket to see that her panties were full of poop. Her body was covered in goosebumps and she was shaking hard trying to keep the poop from coming out. I took her into the bathroom and placed her on the toilet, she screamed and hit.

"No, It's mine. I have to keep it."

"Let it go - NOW!" I sat on the floor of the bathroom for 45 minutes while she emptied herself, crying, shaking and screaming that it hurt. At times, I felt like a doula. "Relax and breathe," I coached. "Hold my hand if you need to." Finally, it was over and she was able to go back to bed easily. Her mood had shifted and she was much happier getting back into bed this time around.

She slept through the night, something she hasn't done for a couple of weeks now and did not pee the bed, also, something she hasn't done in a little while.

She woke up yesterday, relaxed, calm and happy. We had a great day. We went to Home Depot, ran errands, dug a flower garden and went to a street fair downtown. The whole day she was compliant, happy and well-behaved.

If I had known that the cause behind all of her recent hostility and animosity was a good poop, she would have gotten an enema weeks ago.

I think it all started with talk of me returning to work and her starting a new school. She tried to control the only things that she thought she could - her bathroom habits. I have talked to her about this. I have explained that she could get very sick if she tries to hold it in. I think she understands this now.

I hope that this is the end of poop for awhile.


  1. Aww :( Poor baby. My heart breaks for her. I actually have experience in this exact thing and it happened for the exact reason you gave.

    My dad went througha divorce. My youngest siblings hadn't been potty trained correctly by their mother and, while they had been getting better, weren't quite there yet (even at 5 and 6)... and when the divorce happened they completely quit trying to go to the bathroom properly. My brother was the worst. He would go in his bedroom and hide it under clothes or in his toybox. They are now about to be 12 and 13 and the problem is gone.

    There was nothing we could really do about it, though. We could talk to them. We could get angry at them. In the end it just took constant work. They just wanted to control the only thing they thought they could and they didn't even know that's why they were doing it. Instead of trying to hold it all in, though, they wanted to pick where they did it.

    I'm glad she is feeling better. :)

  2. I don't know why that made me almost cry. Maybe because we've all had those mommy moments where we are mad at what our kids doing, but we don't understand the innocence behind it all. They're kids. Sweet, scred, innocent little kids. Yes. They're evil monsters some days too. But in the end, they're just trying to figure it all out too. Hang in there mama!



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