My life is Poop!

This could be a figurative line.  I could be using it as a metaphor or simile … but this is not what I am after.  This is a literal statement.  Any parent will tell you the same, and I feel it is my duty to warn any that are looking to become parents:  with children, comes a life of poop.

I feel I was not adequately warned to just how much time I would put in regarding poop.  It can consume one’s day; always in the back of your mind:  Has she pooped yet today?  How long since her last poop?  How much poop was there?  How many times has she pooped?  Is that too much poop?  What colour was the poop?  Is she pooping now?  Do you smell poop?  Holy Poop!!!

I was caught off guard the first time around at the vast differences there can be in poop.  For instance, I was unaware that poop comes in a rainbow of different colours – this depending mostly on the colour of ingested food the previous day.  For those of you that have not had the pleasure of experiencing this, try feeding your child blueberries by the handful and then hold witness to the smurf-like hue that your child produces shortly thereafter.

Or the consistency of poop.  Until I had children I was not aware that there were more than one kind of texture (other than when you are sick, so I will amend that to two).  I was wrong!  I have lost count as to how many different types of poop have come out of my little girls.  I have started rating them by how many diaper-wipes it takes to clean the little bottom:  the tar-like poop that they first bless you with (anywhere from 3-6 wipes), the seed-like mustard-coloured poop that has you wondering where the seeds are coming from as she is strictly on milk (2-3 wipes), and the splatter-like poop that absorbs so fast you almost don’t need a wipe (rated as a 1 for good measure).

There are explosive poops (there’s grunting that goes along with this one), and creeper poops (some how it crawls all the way up their backs); quiet poops (with a deadly smell) and multiple-diaper poops (you just get the thing on and you’re grabbing for another one).  Even the doctors are in on the poop game, as the question of baby’s poop is somewhere in the regular check-up jargon.

It only gets better when your little bundle of joy gets to an age where she can talk about her poops.  “Mommy, I pooped” or “Mommy, I am pooping”, or “Mommy, yucky poop” have become daily conversations I share with my daughter.  It’s also around this age that YOU start talking more to HER about poop, trying to get her to poop in the potty.   She is also quick to inform everyone and anyone about the pooping of others, assuming to her little self that all those that head in the direction of the bathroom are going to poop.  And beware if she notices your dog sniffing in the grass as she will announce when he has pooped as well.

So there it is.  My life is poop.  So much so, that I have found poop as a muse and have written 550 words about it.

And just in case there are those that were wondering, the official “poop” count for this post is 33.