Thursday, 1 September 2011

Poos, poos, everywhere...

Ohhhh I’m sooo sick of poos!!!  When will it end?  And now I have to think about whether the horrible word has an apostrophe or not!?!  And right now I’m so over poo that I don’t even care. 

Before I was a mother, I heard horror stories of the odd child (odd as in rare, not like, weird or anything) who had ‘painted’ with their own poo’s (if it belongs to them, it does have an apostrophe... right?).  How repulsive!  My child would NEVER do that!  Clearly it was all in the parenting, and I was going to be a great parent, therefore that problem would not be one that I’d be having.  And I think that was the moment that my fate was sealed.  See, I’ve pretty much figured out that whatever you think will never happen to you... will definitely happen.  Especially if that thing involves you thinking that you’re better than someone else.  If only I could go back in time and tape my foolish, opinionated (young) mouth shut.     
My second-born child has been obsessed with playing with his poo since he was old enough to take off his own nappy.  I have cleaned poo from walls, clothes, toys, carpet, beds, baths and tonight... the shower.  Even Iggle Piggle wasn’t safe.  One Christmas Eve while I was busy baking, Iggle Piggle got dealt to.  Poor fella.  Most toys I throw away when they’ve become poo scoopers or diggers or objects to squish poos with.  But Iggle Piggle was really expensive!  So he got the daylights scrubbed and disinfected out of him.  And then he sat the airing cupboard while he recovered from his ordeal.  And while I got brave enough to handle him again.
I’ve become very good at noticing ‘silence’ these days... and usually I can jump in fast enough to halt the poo artwork before it begins.  And toilet training is going really well, so I pretty much thought we were coming out of the poo phase.  I got smug.  I thought I had it sorted.  So tonight, Mr Three was in the shower when I hear the call I dread “I got poooooooooooooo’s Muuuuuummy!”  And the smell hit me.  Poo and steam.  NOT good.  Not even manageable.  Just bad.  All kinds of bad.  
I am no longer smug.  I will not get smug again.  

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