The Plunge
Today we’re delving into the world of poop. It’s going to be total TMI. Though over the top exaggeration is what I do best and that is why you routinely stop by.
So a week ago, I wrote about the whole potty training deal with Cardin. After you have a kid, you’d be completely astounded as to how comfortable you are dealing with their bodily functions. In fact, it borders on an obsession to know the number of times a day a diaper is changed or your kid asks to use the potty. Listen Lady, it becomes such a mundane fact that it can be discussed over dinner as casually as your day at the office. I suppose on some level, the ease of which bodily functions are discussed is advantageous to children; I just like talking about poop though.
Cardin has been doing fabulous with potty training, but like any kid, she’s had a couple minor infractions that we’ve lived through as we navigate these new waters. Understandably, this is a big change for her and she has struggled with actually pooping on the toilet. By struggled I mean she holds it for days at a time. This is completely unnatural for a child of her size and yet she continued to consume extreme quantities of food.
This started almost immediately when we began potty training and in an attempt to help her, we bought apple prune juice. Alas, she proved resilient to our juice attempts. By the time we had gone 96 hours without any sign of poop, I called in the peditrican for backup. He suggested trying a laxative.
Cardin finally imploded that night. I was milliseconds away from busting out in a special rendition of Salt n’ Pepa’s “Push It” when Cardin finally made landfall. Elated, she ran off to get her Hershey Kisses while I was left to deal with the atom bomb she just dropped.
I’m going to emphasize again that this kid weighs less than 30 pounds and had not pooped in 96 hours when this incident occurred. I was forced to plunge our toilet not once, but twice, in order to remove the backup. Listen Lady, by this time I was in a fit of uncontrolled laughter; tears were running down my face. It is incomprehensible to me that a THREE YEAR OLD could plug a toilet so badly that a hazmat team is needed and yet its one more thing to check off my bucket list.