For the last four days, I’ve been at home . . . alone . . . with my toddler and my husband . . . and alot of poop and pee.
Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. The first day was gross. There were two puddles, a fountain, and several outfit changes. The look on my daughter’s face when she was standing there, peeing and not really understanding what she was doing or how to stop it was priceless.
By the third time that day, she was climbing on the cozy coupe with no pants on. This seemed like a bad idea when she started but I didn’t stop her. Then the fountain started. The splashing surprised me and I shouted for her to hold it. She just kinda froze, everything clenched up and it took her another 30 minutes to relax enough to pee. But small victories, it was in the potty. I did have to throw a way a notepad because, you know, pee.
Day two, we had it down. She was going in the potty with no coaxing. There wasn’t a whole lot of time between realization of need to actual peeing so the potty went with us EVERYWHERE. But it was good. We only had one accident.
On Saturday, we were rolling along. Same deal. I was laying on the floor, cause that’s my new normal. Anyway, I glance over at my daughter who is standing a few feet away from me (she finally has pants on by Saturday) and she looks like a unicorn only from her butt. Then, I hear this weird squishy noise. Yep, she’s pooping.
Me: Scarlett, are you pooping?
Scarlett: Uh huh
Me: Hold it! Scarlett! The potty!
She starts freaking out and it’s too late. There’s poop everywhere. Her. Me. The carpet.
The same on Sunday, only this time I was on a video chat with my Mom and almost sat on the poop that feel out of her shorts as I was cleaning her up. I was a good two inches from also having an ass covered in poop. So, thank goodness for small favors.
She’s at daycare today with NO diapers and NO pull ups. Let’s see how this goes. I’m just waiting for the phone call about how she’s pooped through all her changes of clothes and I have to come pick her up.