Revelation #1: I know my poop now

In honor of the book giveaway this week I’m going to spend the next few days revealing some of the things that are not How I Thought My Life Would Be.

It will be fun.  Promise.

First up, when I was dreaming about what I would be when I grew up there was never a time where I thought, “hm… I will become a mother because I like to play with poop!”

If anyone had mentioned to me the first years of parenting are largely comprised of success and failures in the realms of bodily functions I would have thought they were crazy and I may have bailed on the whole operation.

No one mentioned how comfortable I would become with the expulsions from the nether ends of my children.

The transformation from girly-girl to hard-care mom who knows her poop started early.

As soon as the babe was born we were overjoyed with the new, precious life and suddenly intently interested in the exit of myconium from her body.

The sheer number of diaper changes taking place in the first months was astounding – and the fact that so many took place in the wee hours of the night was tragic.

Repetition made the diaper changes passe but we became fascinated with which foodstuffs create biological responses in human output.

Our interest was personal:

We were scarred by Dos, who went 21 days without a bowel movement and required a hail mary operation utilizing glycerin suppositories.  It worked but it wasn’t pretty.

Then there was Uno, who became suspiciously quiet one day in the car seat because she was digging for dark gold in her diaper and eating her prize.  I vomited on the side of the road on that one.

Or Tres… who has, on more than one occasion, pooped into my hand as I hopped up and down and squealed in disgust.  Didn’t phase her one bit.

Those are just the surprises of the diapering phase!

When we moved to the potty-training phase it was a whole different ballgame.

Suddenly I had an internal GPS for the location of every public toilet in the state, carried 60 outfit changes in the diaper bag, and the sight of my child crossing her legs sent me on a high-speed mission to find a restroom that no police blockade could divert.

We haven’t moved past the learning to wipe on your own phase of child-rearing at this point, but I do have high hopes for the lessening of exposure to excrement in my future.

All this to say, I never ever thought I would be this comfortable talking or writing about the down side of food processing.

This Was Not How I Thought It Would Be!

Don’t forget to post a comment on the Giveaway post – the ruffians will draw a winner on Sunday and a lucky reader will receive a free copy of Kristin Maschka’s This Is Not How I Thought It Would Be: Remodeling Motherhood to Get the Lives We Want Today.  She may even autograph it.  How cool is that?!