Being a Port-a-Potty Doorstop

We decided to take the three boys to Brian’s softball game the other night. The weather was beautiful and perfect for the boys to run around and get tons of energy out. They always go to the games with Brian, even when I can’t because they are in heaven, running like wild creatures all over the ball field complex and running the bases whenever there’s a break in action. Those times though, Brian’s mom is usually at the game too, able to keep an eye on them when Brian is in the field and dugout and when he’s batting. They come home with every inch of their bodies covered in dirt, except for those bright white eyes, brimming with crazed, slightly-tamed mischief, and Brian throws them in the bathtub.

This tradition of boys’ night at the ballpark started when I was pregnant and has continued after I’ve had Teddy to watch. I don’t know why we felt the need to change things up that night and let loose the wild things with only me, tied to an infant, to keep them in line. But alas, we did.

Like I said- beautiful night, it started off great with the boys running down the hill in the slanted early evening sunshine from the parking lot to the field, me pushing Teddy in the stroller and feeling all maternal and fulfilled. How naïve I was.

Soon Cal needed to pee. Teddy was fussing in the stroller. There were port-a-pottys close so I told Cal and Clark to go over to one of them, Clark stand by the door while Cal went in and used it and then run back for hand sanitizing. They were uncertain of doing this without me, but somehow they managed it and I didn’t ask for details when they came back.

Of course after awhile Clark needed to go, and by then Teddy was full-on hungry and I was looking for a secluded area in which to nurse him. Clark refused to go potty with only Calvin there by the door so I grudgingly told him I’d go with them. It was then he informed me and the entire group of spectators that he had to poop. Of course he did. Now what?

I pulled the stroller over to the door of the port-a-potty and propped the door open with it. The stench was as bad as you’d expect it to be. I told Cal his job was to stand right by Teddy as I aided Clark, balancing over the precipice of blue water littered with floating feces. Just don’t puke, Dawn. Remember you’re the mom. First he peed and it went all over the back of his pants, so that was a nice start to the experience. Then came the poop. Fortunately there was toilet paper and I quickly took care of things, holding my breath. Teddy started crying and Cal was loudly complaining about the smell and that the door was heavy. It felt like everyone was watching us, a stroller propping open the port-a-potty, two whining boys, and a crying baby. Was this really what my life had become? A port-a-potty doorstop? I wanted to run away.

Anyway, Clark got cleaned up and I deemed that his wet pants were okay for him to keep playing in the dirt. Plus I needed to nurse so the baby would shut up. As we were walking out, Clark said he needed to go again. Are you freaking kidding me? I told Cal to stay with him and I left to nurse, ignoring Clark calling that he wanted me there. Bad mom? Maybe.

I found a semi-secluded area on the other side of a little hill behind home plate. I pulled out my handy nursing cover and got down to business. I was about halfway done when I looked up and saw Clark, pants and underwear around his ankles, doing a shuffle toward me in full view of all spectators. Excellent. Gravel crunched loudly around his feet and I closed my eyes in disbelief.

So, just to summarize in case you missed something: I had a boob in a baby’s mouth, a child coming toward me with no pants or underwear on in full view of the public, yelling at me that he needed help, and a third child laughing at his naked brother. Clark got to me and I made him sit in the grass and take everything off while I finished nursing and then I took out the spare clothes that I have learned to take everywhere with boys.

It felt like everyone in both fields must have seen what was going on with us, and be laughing, but Brian hadn’t even noticed any of the episode. Granted, he was in the outfield, but still I was surprised. We all sanitized up and then the boys proceeded to roll in the dirt and gravel, run through tall grass, and slide into home plate. Teddy finally fell asleep, and we eventually left.

I swear I’ll never do it again, no matter how beckoning the weather, until they are all teenagers. 

Teddy, before the night digressed

The three boys, NOT being disgusting 

This Week's Poop Similes Wrap-up

"My poop looks like a hotdog!" -Cal

"My poop looks like a peanut!" - Clark

"It looks like a cactus or a fish or something." -Clark

"It looks like a hotdog AGAIN this time!" -Cal

"It's like a baby poop." - Cal

"My poop is like a seahorse!" -Clark

"This time it's a tree!" -Cal

"It looks like a banana. And someone started peeling it already!" -Cal

"It's a small as a crumb." -Clark

"It looks like a snail or a worm maybe." -Clark

"I looks like Buzz Lightyear." -Clark

"Did you hear my poop pop out from my buns?" -Cal

"This is the strongest poop you've ever seen!" -Clark

"Looks like crumbs from a baseball field." -Clark

"Looks like two snakes and a turtle." -Clark

I just couldn't resist sharing. After all, I want to encourage figurative language in my boys.

Here are some of my previous boys and poop thoughts: Poopy diapers and Funny Poop.

Potty Tales and Potty Trails, etc.

The last week and a half before Brian went back to work we started potty training in earnest. Also at that time and directly related to potty training time, we purchased a carpet cleaner. We took off the boys’ pants and diapers and let them run around in their bare buns. There were many frustrating accidents on the carpet, but it was so nice to have two of us to deal with the accidents. I would clean up the perpetrator, throw all contaminated clothes in the washer, put on new clothes, apply the proper amount of (or possibly too much) scolding, while Brian poured in the hot water and fired up the carpet cleaner to take out the nasty potty spot and/or potty trail.

Two days before Brian went back to work Clark had four incidents of peeing on the carpet. We took them to the playground with the potty chair in the van and they still both wet all over the mulch, their cIothes, shoes, and playground equipment. I was absolutely dreading being the only one to deal with two constantly moving pee and poo fountains.

BUT. During the past two Brian-less days there hasn’t been a single carpet accident, only a couple outside accidents of which I do not wish to elaborate on. I’m so proud! They also have started wanting to go, and actually going at the same time—we have a potty chair as well as our potty seat that goes on the toilet so they can do it in the same bathroom. I’ve spent a lot of time coaching from the bathroom footstool, and more intimate time in close quarters with the toilet, spraying urine, and warm feces than I hope to ever have again. I know you’re gagging. I just feel like I need to share my pain with someone.

Gettin' it done, teamwork style

Today we ventured to the park with no diapers and Clark wet himself after running around for awhile, but Cal got to experience for the first time the awesomeness that is being male in the outdoors when nature calls. Lucky.

 
The boys are doing well in the potty department and I’m proud. Next step is getting them to use public toilets so we can be real people and leave the house occasionally. They have some classes at the community center they will start in a few weeks so hopefully they will be easier to take places at that point. Is hoping to not experience anymore warm shit dropping into my hand too much to ask?

The sticker chart was bursting so I had to lengthen it!

Since this is not only a blog but also my scrapbook, here are some other pictures from recent happenings.

Went to Totally Trucks. Yes, Cal has bacon and eggs band-aids on his knees.

Clark ran the little excavator.



Worked a construction job with Baby Alex

Were in Aunt Julie's wedding



Got the rings down the aisle

Drank smoothies

Brian made pickles.

Put fins to the left, fins to the right...

Fading graffiti

Even less graffiti

Guitar wall

Made a Cheerio bird feeder

Built a tower all by himself

Drank more smoothies

Potty Mouths

Happy Thursday! I hope you've all eaten before you read what I wrote about my twin potty mouths for DC Metro Mom this morning. Here's the link.

How the Prairie Dogs Rocked the National Zoo

Two weeks ago we took a trip to the National Zoo with some friends, including the boys’ friends Andrew, and little Chloe from Adventures With Little Bear. The trip is more tedious than normal for us as public transportation-ers because we have to transfer metro lines, but due in part to the excitement of having Andrew on the bus and metro with us, the boys barely noticed the extra waiting and jostling.

Sit in the front car! Boys love it.

The zoo is just a few blocks away from the Woodley Park/National Zoo metro stop, and it’s free. In the past my National Zoo experiences have been varied. One time we brought the boys when they were way too young, it was way too hot, and way too crowded. The perfect time was last fall, middle of the week, with my parents and brother. Cooler weather, fewer people, happier animals, and more help with the boys. In my opinion, if you want to go to the zoo, do it in the middle of a week and before school is out, or in the fall after it’s in session. I want nothing to do with walking all over creation in 100% humidity while pushing a stroller full of toddlers through throngs of sweaty people.

The first thing we did at the zoo this time was wait for the sloth bear to come out and suck termites through a straw, but alas, the sloth bear was not up for the audience at his meal and he hid from view while the slightly flustered employee rattled off sloth bear statistics. If your kids have an animal they are especially interested in, either look online before, or ask someone if they allow visitors to watch a feeding and plan to be in the right place at the right time. I make no guarantees about the sloth bear.

Scaling a  mountain waiting for the sloth bear

Four little monkeys watching the zebras

We managed to see a red panda and one of the giant pandas that the zoo is known for. The boys’ favorite part was touching fossilized panda poop on display. Of course. They think anything on the topic of poop or any word that sounds like poop is hilarious. I’ve come to believe it’s hardwired into boys to be that way, because they didn’t get it from Brian and me. I’ve had other moms of boys say the same thing.

The kids liked interactive displays like this one.

POOP!

Since the renovation of one side of the elephant house (they’re still working on the other side), it is much easier to see the elephants, and it makes me happy that they have a much bigger home. The suspension bridge over the elephant enclosure is cool and only makes me a little nervous. There are also a couple other viewing places down below if you’re not into suspension bridges.

This last time we didn’t make it into the monkey house or small mammal house or reptile house, but all of those places are fun unless they’re crowded. The big cats are impressive to see. We got an outstanding, toothy yawn from a lion. The boys’ favorite part of the cats exhibit was touching a big ball that lions had played with, because they could touch the teeth marks and claw-scratches.

I know, I know. I should be a wildlife photographer.

The lion ball!

The whole way from the gate to the end of the zoo is downhill. I urge you to keep that in mind while gauging your tiredness. The farm animals are near the end, and we’ve actually never made it quite that far, though I’ve heard that especially the smaller kids like the farm animals.

Chloe had to leave before the best part, unfortunately. Surprisingly, it was the Prairie Dogs. Not because the animals themselves were cool, but because behind them is a kids’ prairie dog maze! It’s a bunch of plastic playground-y tunnels with various places kids can poke up and see out of, like prairie dogs! The three boys became squealing prairie dogs for a long time, and were extremely reluctant to leave their tunnels.

 The next favorite thing for them was dancing in the spray from the misters as we made our way up 

out of the zoo.

As far as eating, I recommend packing a lunch or snack and drinks, unless you’re cool with paying $9 for a standard hamburger or chicken strips, or if you don’t want a soda the size of a small water heater. There are a lot of tables to spread food out on in various places throughout the zoo.

Overall it’s a fun and worthwhile outing, albeit a bit tiring (especially if you metro). I recommend figuring out what your kids want to see the most and going there first so you don’t get worn out before you actually get to see the cool stuff!

5 Conditional Shouts! *Go anytime but the summer, know what you want to see, and allow enough time so you’re not rushed or utterly drop-dead tired by the time you leave.

Riding...a frog face?

Emu

Ahhhhh! Little misters in the mister
(sorry, couldn't help it)

Frogs and Snails and Puppy-dogs’ Tails and Pooting

Oh, little boys. As our boys are getting more and more verbal we are hearing such boy things from them. Correct me if I’m wrong, but holding a book and pointing to each word while exclaiming, “Poop! Poop!” while the other brother laughs hysterically is not typically something that a girl would do. Maybe I’m just naïve and sexist, but… I’m not.

If one of them farts, he usually says loudly, “I pooted!” with a self-congratulatory smile, or else, since they are still not strong in the personal pronouns department, “You pooted!” about his own gas. They exhibit curiosity about each other’s diaper changes lately that is a bit off-putting. Today Cal wanted to see Clark’s poop. Then he said, “eat it, eat it,” which made them both giggle like crazy. Gross. I mean, I grew up with two brothers so not a lot shocks me...but that did.

Cal views the world upside-down/shows what he thinks about the fountain

Today their friend Andrew came over to play. Out of nowhere, as they were silently eating snacks, Clark said, “poop.” Andrew laughed. Cal laughed. And then again. This probably doesn't have anything to do with their gender, but they've both taken to sticking their little butts in the air and their heads on the ground occasionally in public. I like to think of it as creatively viewing the world from an unconventional angle, but maybe it’s simply sticking their bums out at the world. Who knows.  

So it’s more than finding train tracks in the bathroom sink or Buzz Lightyear in my bed or stepping on cement trucks and bug vacuums at 2am that serve as reminders that we’re the parents of little boys. Now it’s the language. Oh boy(s).

Poop

I’m good with poop. The other day I was reminded in a funny way of just how talented, both physically and emotionally, I have become at handling poop.
I was changing one boy while Brian was changing the other(Brian had a snow day on account of the dusting we had the night before). This was in the morning after the boys had already pooped, so we don’t usually get another dirty diaper until later in the day if we do at all. Brian made a pained sound, and said something along the lines of:

“Oh gross. Ew. I think a fleck of poop might have fallen out of the diaper onto my hand. Disgusting. Excuse me while I go scrub my hands and boil myself.”

I laughed a lot about it, to the point where I was actually wondering why I found it so funny. (On a side note, Brian changes his fair share of dirty diapers when he’s around, but I’m the one usually home when they poop so it is usually me.) This prompted me to think about my poop-handling journey and how my attitude and behavior toward this smelly bodily function has changed over time.

The bare minimum poop-handling I do is two diapers a day and it’s usually more like three, four, or even five diapers, all of which vary in intensity, consistency, and sheer volume. With watching Alex, I’ve had to acclimate back to the intricacies of newborn poop while still maintaining the dexterity and quick-thinking involved in handling toddlers’ full diapers while they struggle to put blocks together or read a story or compete in a soccer match.

I remember my gag reflex creeping up when the boys were first born and we were changing their diapers. I wanted to disinfect the entire room and take a shower after the diapers were safely disposed of. These days if I get poop on my hands I am unaffected. Not that I don’t clean myself afterwards, but if I had gotten my hands in that situation in those early months I would have been grossed out, possibly vomited, and probably told a bunch of people about it, possibly causing them to vomit also. It’s amazing how I’ve changed.

I’ve come up with a chart but I see that it is too small to read...sorry. I'll try to interpret below the image because I can't figure out a better way to fix this.

On left: Intensity/Frequency of poop-handling incidents per day 10-1
The colors represent the level of grossed-out-ness/shock over time
Bars represent (from left) first 6 months, 8 months, 12, 18, 22

KEY
PURPLE: BEYOND COMPREHENSION
RED: Danger! Gag, choke, possible, vomit, boil hands, wash changing pad and all possibly-contaminated clothing, don't inhale, try to focus on happy place
ORANGE: Quite nasty, sanitize most things after, change at least pants/onesie
BLUE: Annoying, a little gross, change diaper only, wash hands, move on
GREEN: Don't even notice--rely on instinct, little fleck on the sock? no biggie just wipe off with wipe, think about dinner, dishes, or flower bed plans

Disregard the awkwardness of that...I've already spent WAY too much time on the chart to try to figure out how to edit it. I'm sure you get the general idea.