Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Main Problem with Parenting



The main problem with parenting can be summed up in one word: poop. That is right, I mean fecal matter. That lovely stuff that comes out of us every day that we usually do not talk about until we become parents and then our lives pretty much revolve around it. I myself do not relax fully until my two year old has her daily bowel movement and then I no longer have to worry about her pooping her panties. My newborn poops constantly. I base what we eat and drink around whether or not the people in my family are regular. I have even started milking goats every morning to provide one of my children with milk that does not constipate her.
Poop itself is not a problem until it gets out of control. When it leaves the realm of toilets and diapers, when it gets on surfaces that are vertical or dry clean only, then it is so problematic that it causes us to retire to our beds early or leave church unexpectedly. For example, only yesterday I threw my hands in air in despair (and disgust) when I asked my two year old what was on the wall. Her response was, "it is poo from mine bum" (note to future self: this is from the period when sweet PJ never used the possessive pronoun "my"). Then today, yes, only hours after the wall experience, I found myself in the mother's lounge at church frantically calling my husband on his cell because I was covered in poop. Sweet Lizzie's diaper had blown out and yellow, seedy feces went all over her and me. (I will not go into details about how he did not answer my calls or texts because his phone was on "church mode" which means no ringing and no vibrating. Why does he bring it to church at all? I digress...) We went home early. I pulled the kids out of primary and nursery and went out into a blizzard to go home because of one thing: poop.
My conclusion is this: I would be a much better person if I did not have to deal with the bowel movements of others. If only children were born with the ability to breath, suck, and take care of their own poop. I would be friendlier and nicer and would not own stock in disinfecting wipes.