I’m talking sh&t. Poo. Bowel Movements.
That said, those boys were pretty crapola last night – Chickezie and the youngster aside – but this is about real poopoos: my 2.5 year old son is toilet training himself.
It started about a month ago. Sounds like no (ahem) biggie but it was. Our eldest refused to go near a toilet until he was well past 3. And even then, it was a negotiation, a struggle, a bloody nightmare. You’d think sitting in your own sh&t would be somewhat, erm, uncomfortable. Apparently not. Puh-lease: don’t try it at home….
But I digress. This isn’t about the first-born. (Strange, but true) Back in January my baby told me he wanted to “make a poo”. I told him to crawl under the table like he usually does, but he was adamant. He wanted la toilette. Who was I to argue? I plopped him down, he plopped one out and we were off to the races.
Except we weren’t.
Seems my boy has picked up the habits of….boys. The sitting around, lounging on the can, taking your sweet-ass time kind of habits. All he needs is a paper and he’s ready for the men’s room. Have you noticed that? Boys have no issue picking up the sports section and heading to the john. They’ll even wave, stop to chat and tell you where they’re going. In public!!! Girls would never. N.E.V.E.R. They’ll wait for the comfort of their own homes. And if they must, they’ll find a hotel. Or, better still, a WC with floor to ceiling doors. In the workplace, repeat flushings, water running, even faux coughs – the ladies stay lady-like in the loo.
Not my boy. Not any boys I know. Announcements made, they saunter off, close the door (or not) and let ‘er rip. My son’s new thing is to take at least half an hour. I worry he’ll get hemorrhoids from sitting so long (unless that’s a myth.) But he will not be moved. And of course the urge to purge comes at the most inopportune moments. Bedtimes, mealtimes, ready-to-walk-out-the-door-times. So far, so good – we’ve been at home. He’s not manly enough to dump in public. Yet. (Thank god. Half an hour in a public bathroom? Pas pour moi.)
I know I should count my blessings – he wants to ditch the diaper and join the big leagues. But when you’re held back by BM’s? That’s just no fun.
Unless of course it’s your own.