Poop Post

Let's talk about poop for a minute. You're thinking, "Why should we talk about poop?" And I'm thinking, "Why SHOULDN'T we talk about poop?" Honestly, people, it's just poop.

(As a forewarning, this entire post is about poop. So if you're a little squeemish about poop (and that's alright if you are), then you won't want to read any further.)

And why do I want to talk about poop? Because no one ever does! I've been thinking about why we don't talk about poop, and I've come up with 2 reasons, which I shall discuss in some small detail befitting a mind as young and inexperienced as mine (that last part was just for Parley P.--yea for 19th century writing! Sorry, that was a tangent).

Reason #1 - Poop is gross. Well, my 5-year-old son thinks that poop is funny, not gross. And if you're about to say, "Poop is not funny," then just say the word "poop" outloud to a group of people and see if half of them don't instantly laugh. You know what I'm saying. ... I'm not suggesting, though, that poop need be funny all the time. I'm only saying that it CAN be funny.

So why do we think poop is gross? This is what I've come up with: Poop can make you sick, right? Too bad people didn't have that figured out for eons, cause it certainly would have kept a lot of diseases at bay. So it isn't poop in and of itself that is gross; it's the lack of proper sanitation that is gross (and just the idea of improper sanitation makes me want to throw up, it's so gross). But we live in a sanitation-saavy era, so I think we can be mature and move past the idea that poop HAS TO BE gross.

Reason #2 - Poop is personal. We all, with little exception, poop in private. But we ALL poop, so it's a universal personal thing. And hence, I think we should be able to talk about it. Not that I want to be talking about textures or colors or anything like that. That might be a little TOO personal for me.

Over the years I've had an occasional poop story that I've wanted to share, but felt I couldn't, since "we don't talk about poop." So now I'm going to tell all the stories, observations, and comments about poop that I've accumulated. Right here. In this Poop Post.

Observation: Some people enjoy the process of pooping. Most of these people are men, I've decided. One of those men is my husband and I've tried to grill him on why pooping is "enjoyable." I personally would describe the process of pooping more like a chore that has to get done, and why not get it done as quickly as possible. I would describe cleaning the toilet as more enjoyable than pooping. So how is it that he thinks it's enjoyable? I don't know, because I still, even after his explanations, don't get it. Because the reasons make no sense to me.

Comment: Poop is pschyological. At least for me it can be. For instance, if I'm stressed and really busy or nervous, I won't poop at all. For days. The best example I have of this came right after I got married. Inviting a new person into my life and sharing everything with him, including a bathroom, wasn't exactly an easy transition for me. Nor was it for him. Anyways, I was so anxious about it that I didn't poop for weeks. And I didn't get sick; I was fine. Which makes me think that pooping is half in our heads.

I am happy to report, though, that I now poop on a daily, or near-daily basis. And this is much healthier.

Story: I gave birth to all 3 of my children via C-section. After the surgery the doctors give you lots of stool softeners, since your body shuts down after traumatic events like major surgery. But they won't let you go home until you've had a successful bowel movement (which is just a fancy way of saying, "You've pooped"). Well, after baby number 2 I was taking all the prescribed stool softeners, but still things were not going very well. And so my first after-baby bowel movement was ... well, we won't go there. Let's just say it wasn't good. And for the next nine months of breastfeeding, I dealt with the consequences of that one horrid poop experience. This meant that pooping was always painful and usually bloody.

For baby number 3 I told the doctor that I was bringing my own stool softeners with me to the hospital, and that I would be taking at least double the prescribed amount. I wasn't about to re-do 9 months of pooping hell.

Observation: It wasn't until years later when I did a health challenge and started drinking the right amount of water (which was at least double what I'd normally been drinking) that I realized the connection between pooping and hydration. Moral of this observation: DRINK MORE WATER!

Story: I might have told this story before, but it bears re-telling for this Poop Post. When Elijah was 2-years-old and still in diapers, I laid him down for a nap in his room. He was quiet and I was happy that he was asleep when I walked by his room and even through a closed door I could smell that he had a poopy diaper. I figured he must be laying right in front of the door, too (something he often did in those days), since I could smell it so well. I finally decided to check it out and opened the door to see Elijah standing up, happy as can be, playing in his own poop. His diaper was on the floor, and there was poop all over the place. Of course I was frustrated at the prospect of cleaning up all that poop (improper sanitation, right there!), but I had to laugh when I turned to the wall and saw a "poop print" on the wall. And the print wasn't made by his hands or feet, it was the mark of his two little butt cheeks, with the penis mark underneath. ... I decided not to take a picture, so that I wouldn't scar him as a teenager, but the image is permanently imbedded in my mind.

Story: When Miciah was 3 or 4 years old, she went through a random phase. Well, part of it wasn't random--she pretended to be a princess or an animal or whatever. That's pretty typical kid stuff. So I guess what made it random wasn't the what, it was the how. She was in the habit during this time of taking all her clothes off to go to the bathroom. Why all her clothes, I don't know, but it doesn't have to make sense to a 3-year-old. Anyways, one day she ran out of the bathroom, turned around in front of us, bent over and said, "Look! I have a donkey tail!" And there, dangling from between her little butt cheeks was a gross piece of toilet paper. Despite our best attempts at Parental Reservation, we laughed out loud. Which meant that she repeated the event several times, just to get the reaction. We learned to not laugh.

Observation: All little kids think poop is funny, of course, but they also know it's gross. The other day Elijah said, "What if there was a pile of poop that reached all the way into the sky?" I dunno, what if there was? "That'd be gross." I imagined that pile of poop in our backyard, just to see what I'd think about a huge pile of poop. Yep, it'd be gross.

It's the smell that gets Elijah. If Teancom ever has a poopy diaper, Elijah wrinkles up his nose instantly and turns to me with a very concerned look on his face: "Teancom is stinky! Change him, Mommy!" ... Elijah will also have me turn on the bathroom fan when he's pooping, if it gets too stinky for him. It's funny to walk into the bathroom and see a cute little 4-year-old, feet not even touching the floor, plugging his nose and saying, "I'm stinky." Makes me laugh every time.

Story: Our whole family was outside, two houses down the street, when Elijah turned to me and said, "Mom, I need to go potty!" I said okay and then kinda stalled for a minute or two, after which I couldn't see Elijah any more. I figured he had walked into R&C's house to go potty. That's my aunt and uncle, so he's used to using their bathroom, too. Or maybe he'd asked Rob to take him potty. But no, there was Rob standing right there. Huh. Well, Elijah was 4 1/2 at the time, and probably capable of using the potty all by himself. I didn't worry about it.

Pretty soon the door to our house opened and Elijah was calling to us. I told Rob that he needed to go take care of that, and Rob walked up to the house. Soon Rob was calling to me, too, so I figured I'd better stop being lazy and actually go see what they needed. As soon as I got to the door I knew I was in for a good laugh. There was Rob bent over a naked Elijah covered in poop, with his pants, also covered in poop, around his ankles. Rob took care of Elijah while I herded the other two children away from the poop trail that led from the bathroom all the way to the front door. It took a good half an hour to clean it all up, and Rob was NOT happy about the whole thing. That's understandable, I guess, but I thought it was hilarious! I mean, come on, just the imagery of that. You got a little boy, naked except for the pants around his ankles, walking to the front door, opening it, and calling out to his parents standing outside, peacefully chatting with friends, completely unaware of the mess. Isn't that just funny?!

I didn't convince Rob right then that it was hilarious. But he stopped being quite so grumpy about it. ... I got the sense that he thought the whole thing was my fault, but I'll take the blame if someone has to. I think the half hour of clean up was totally worth it for the laugh!


And that's all I've got about poop. If you've read this far, and if you're now wondering what subject I WON'T cover, you can rest assured that I won't be covering any subject more personal than poop. But if I ever do, then you don't have to read it anyways.