I'm obsessed with poo. I always have been, but potty training is tipping me over the edge. I used to only have to worry about my own. Now I spend half the day pondering when to put Marie on her potty so I won't have to clean out another pair of pants. She's doing great with the pee, and I'm sure the other is just a matter of time so I should just relax and deal with it - but we have new sofas, you know. And she likes to sit on the carpet. And I do not like cleaning up poo.
Half of the days I get the timing right, and get her on the potty in front of Mr Tumble at roughly the right time. The other half she goes to stand in a corner somewhere, turns scarlet and then comes to tell me "Mama I did a poo." Which in turn makes me turn scarlet with the sheer effort of appearing not to care at all. "That's okay, sweetie. Maybe next time it will be in the potty. Accidents happen." Do they fuck! I don't poo in my pants every other day.
* My rant is helping. She's turning scarlet on her potty right this second and just went "Kaka!" in a cute breathless, pushing-it-out-right-now way. Hurray for us! *
I have been thinking - it must be very difficult. She's used to pooping standing up, and now she has to do it sitting down. Imagine you had to change to pooping lying down or standing up. I'm sure it would take a while before you managed. I am not going to experiment with this. My interest in the world of poo only goes that far. Anyone fancy pooping standing up and reporting back?
The heat is doing strange things to my brain. This train of thought is amusing me profoundly today. God help us when this baby arrives and I have four people's poo at my fingertips (as it were) to obsess over and report about.
(Babes' is off limits. Somehow even I know this would spoil what little mystery we have left after sixteen years and two births together.)