Monday, June 18, 2012

Don't Read This Post While You Are Eating

My house smells like someone has smeared poop all over the place. Someone, in fact, has.

Summer school has begun for Jack, and it seems that this transition, while it is a positive one which he is quite happy about, has triggered the need to Code Brown.

Our approach to the indoor poopapalooza trend is to respond with complete neutrality. Open the door to Jack's grotto to find a stinking, smeared mess? Poker face. Silence.

Strip the bed. Sanitize the floor, walls, and window. Isolate the perp away from the crime scene, thus NOT reinforcing the behavior by allowing him the fun of watching the janitorial response.

It's a nasty job, and it still makes my blood boil when it happens. And yes, it still happens, despite the advice of experts and our best efforts in prevention. But I am fairly certain that the way I respond to the Code Brown says more about my parenting efforts than does my inability to eradicate it.

I live in Poo City, and that is just the way it is. I am weary of talking about futile solutions with experts. I am tired of trying to catch Jack in the act, or just before. I am not loving the barnyard stench which ubiquitously wafts through my house.

Perhaps I am reaching the acceptance phase in the grieving process of having a chronic poo-casso in my life. I am too tired to deny that it's a problem, or to try to bargain with the universe to make it stop, or even to feel perpetual anger that it still happens.

I'm at peace with the smelly veneer of crap in my house. Okay, not really, but I do find solace in the hard-working Kirkland Signature Household cleaning wipes, which really help to get the job done.

And I appreciate my husband, who is my partner in restoration.


6 comments:

  1. Arg! So sorry. You continually amaze me with your patience and endurance. I really do look up to you. Every time you talk about your response mattering the most, you help me take it down a notch.

    PS: I think poo-casso is my favorite thing I've heard this week. :)

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  2. Agreed about the poo-casso :) You are such a patient mom! We know exactly how this feels, albeit on a smaller scale. I will tell you right now that I don't always respond with the poker face. In my mind I plan on that, but the anger seems to win out. I am glad I have you as a good example!

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  3. Every Code Brown post just kinda blows my mind. I thought I had it bad a couple of years ago with potty training Ben and dealing with a really old dog forgetting her potty training. That was NOTHING. (And I have to admit, your Code Brown posts also make poop and its resulting cleaning just a teeny bit funny, in a horror film kind of way.)

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  4. ICK! I've experienced that once in my life and because I was the nanny I was able to shut the door behind me and inform his mother that this was not a part of my job description. I only wish that you could do that. It literally stinks that you have to deal with this on a regular basis. I feel for you. I bet though that you have turned picking up poo into sanitation science by now. Hang in there.

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  5. Thank you for choosing the title you did- saved me!

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  6. Don't despair! While I'm certainly no expert, I've been where you are now. Kayla finally did potty train last year, at age 8. It took me being in Florida, and dad running out of pull-ups and refusing to buy more, for it to happen. (Good thing, too. We were looking at having to buy from a medical supply store, as the store ones just weren't cutting it anymore.) Kayla was basically held hostage on the toilet night and day. She was allowed to come out for short reprieves at mealtime, and for a few hours after a successful bowel movement. And, this time it worked. (We'd tried this same method a time or two or ten before, and she wasn't having any of it.) This one little, but humungous part of life, has completely changed ours. I hope soon, it will yours too. I will be praying for Jack every day.

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