When Life’s the Dumps

My life is sh*t right now.

No, I mean literally my entire life seems to revolve around good ole number 2 at this moment.

You see, my two year old is pretty much potty-trained number 1, but REFUSES to go number two in the toilet. Instead she insists upon pretending that once she creeps behind the chair she loves to use as a hiding place, she becomes invisible. And not just her person becomes invisible, but the nasty little smells she creates back there also become magically…invisible. And if you ask her what she’s doing back there, she just screams, “NOO” as if she is in denial of what she is doing or how she intentionally sought out her designated poop corner. (Side note, there was a whole pile of books behind this chair, and I said to her, “why are all these books back here?” Her response was, “poopoo.” So yeah, she has her own little magazine rack of sorts for the “work” she does back there). Yet, she trots off to the bathroom of her own volition when she has to tinkle, shouting at me the whole time that she do it, “myself” and that I must, “tose the door” for her in order to give her two-year-old self some much needed privacy. If only she’d be so dedicated to letting mommy get a moment of privacy for such things as well.

To add to this mess, when she does drop a turd in her undies, she now tries to clean it herself….okay, let me back-track. I am an organizing freak, and may have insisted upon teaching my child, starting at a very young age – like a year old-, that one must always clean up after one’s self, and then I have reinforced this with vigilance….anyway, back to the story…so my two-year old tries to wipe herself of all her nastiness when she does do a poopy in her panties, which, though it may seem helpful, is definitely not. Just picture…okay don’t. Nevermind. I take it back, don’t picture it. I think you probably get what happens.

As if this weren’t enough to deal with, my eight-month old CAN’T poop. Yes, I have one that won’t and one that can’t. It’s lovely around here. We started noticing some digestion issues a while ago and have been on a roller coaster of trial and error solutions to fix whatever the issue actually is. I stopped breastfeeding when he was around 4 months old, but it seemed to be an issue then as well. Since then, we have spent hundreds of dollars on different formulas: different brands of gentle formulas, nutramigen (which is basically super broken down proteins), all whey formulas, all soy formulas. It’s been like a buffet of formulas around here. I’ve also done tummy massages and essential oils, which makes it feel like we’re running some baby massage parlor. From there we added reflux medication because he would spit up so much, and you know from mouth to bottom – it’s all connected. None of this really helped (okay, well the reflux medicine DOES help his spitting up issues). In desperation I have also bought these on repeat. It is as disgusting as it seems, but is also the only thing that helps sometimes. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Recently we sought out a GI doctor at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. He had us start him on a laxative-type medicine, but also warned us it could get worse. And it has. Like not pooping for almost two days worse, and waking up each day somewhere between 2-4am wiggling and kicking with tummy pain kind of worse. Britton sleeps worse now than he did when he was a newborn. So I called back yesterday to see what the next steps are. img_3999

So that’s where we are in life right now. Knee deep in poop and sleep deprived on top of that. So if you are thinking of sending us Christmas presents, perhaps make it packs of wipes, cans of Frebreeze, and coffee. Lots of coffee. Because God knows that is the only way we are surviving right now.

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One thought on “When Life’s the Dumps

  1. Pingback: Mr. Hanky: The Christmas (poo) Story | Fletching Little Life

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