Poop – Take 357 (or something around there)

If I could turn back the clock to when I was in college or graduate school, I really only have one thing I’d say to my professors:

“Where the hell are the classes about poop?”

Seriously. I spend more time talking about poop, thinking about poop, worrying about poop and, (let’s face it, smelling poop) than I ever thought possible. My efforts to get Paige to poop on the potty have been exhausting, and imma bout to throw in the towel (or the toilet paper, I guess).

We’ve tried everything. To recap:

Told her she could only play with a brand new sand table when she pooped in the potty. She decided she didn’t need a sand table to have fun (literally people, her words – not mine).

Offered up sweet delights that should tempt anyone (mini peanut butter cups, anyone? No? How about cupcakes from Gigi’s? No? A cookie?). Nope. Doesn’t want that anyways.

The words “Seriously. What do you want? I will give you anything you want if you poop on the potty,” have left my mouth. Her response? “I just don’t want to do it, Mommy. Just stop it.”

So, things have taken a … how you say? Threatening tone around here lately.

First we told her we were going to take books out of her bed. You guessed it – she doesn’t want books anyways. We took things away until all she had left were her pillow and her comforter, and I’m pretty sure making her sleep on the floor is child abuse (and would break my heart).

Then we switched to pull-ups. We told her she couldn’t poop in them because they were just like panties. That worked really well – for the first day or so. Then she realized we were idiots. ‘These aren’t panties, morons!’ she thought. ‘They’re just less-paddy diapers. Let’s see. GRUNT. Yep. They hold poop just fine!” Oh, and then she also peed THROUGH the pull-up and her sheets while she slept. Because…well, because they’re really just less-paddy diapers.

Then Nani got involved. Paige does NOT mess around with Nani, and Nani had had enough of the poops (not the first time, but bless her heart – she still has faith that ol’ Paigers can do this. It’s nice to know someone does). The new plan hatched itself on vacation. I brought Paige upstairs to change yet ANOTHER poopy pull-up, and Nani stepped in.

She decided that if Paige chooses to poop in her pull-up then she should change it herself (which, incidentally, is what the pediatrician may or may not have suggested to me 7 months ago at her 3 year appointment. However, this advice did not come with an offer to come to our house and clean up what I could only imagine would be a poop-covered bathroom.). But Nani persevered, and told Paige to follow her upstairs.

She also said she would handle it, so I told her she was a rockstar and walked downstairs to where I hopefully couldn’t hear the screams (Wait? Have I met that child? I could have come back to Indiana and still heard the screams).

SIDE NOTE: To those of you thinking “wow, that seems a little harsh,” let me explain something. This child is WAITING to poop until she gets into bed. She knows she has to go and says she’s tired (and this goes on for HOURS until her actual bedtime). We are constantly making her sit on the potty. She has somehow figured out how to sit there, fake push (I’m not kidding), then go into her bed and poop after a minute or so. It’s insane. And also, a little admirable. You gotta admire her willpower. 

Nani literally stood just outside the bathroom and made her do all the work – including cleaning up the inevitable, uh, mess that results when a 3 1/2 year-old changes her own poopy diaper. Lots of dry-heaving and near-pukes by all involved. So, you probably think that this is where the story ends. That obviously this would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, and now Paige poops in the potty.

You’d be wrong. This happened all week. She screamed and threw fits, but old girl keeps on changing her own poopy diapers. Yesterday? She actually pooped a little on the potty, then went ahead and filled her pull-up during her nap. I may or may not have told her I was going to put her crib back together because she was obviously a baby and needed to do baby things again (note: this might have been a horrible idea. Paige knows to call my bluff, and I’m worried that sleeping in a crib actually sounds like a great idea to her).

My last option is to put her in bed without anything and let her either become so constipated that we have to go to the hospital, or let her bed become so gross that no one in this house can ever make eye contact again after the clean-up process. For God’s sake, she has a white rug in her room and it’s my favorite one in our house!

I don’t like my options, but I also don’t like losing.

Um, Nani – any chance you got this one, too?

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