When Your Kid Eats Poo
I never thought that would be my kid. Really, I don't think any mom predicts what chaos is lurking around every growth marker those first few years of child raising. But sh*t happens. Some kids are easy and their moms have no clue how easy they have it. Some kids are slower to catch on to things and others are way too fast to keep up with...
I've always given a lot of independence to my kids in the sense that, I don't just sit and play and cuddle with them because reality is, I need to maintain the daily life of housework, bookkeeping, grocery shopping and healthy meals which means, I need them to be self proactive for a bit in order to get through a few minuets of a task. Some moms don't care bout a clean house or organized work - understandably, your life is tied to the attached little guy, wacky hormones, no sleep, and breastfeeding - but I die if I don't have order. Maybe it is just that business sense in me but I need things to be clean, structured, easy to find; I hate clutter, I hate knowing bacteria is growing, I have a need for progress and balance, I hate to have unfinished work sitting on a desk, I hate an unbalanced account, I like things done on time. So, yes, I need to clean the piles of dishes so I have the pots and pans I need to cook the next meal (we have no dishwasher - old house) which we will be hungry for in an hour. So, I left Kana'i alone in the playroom with the non-choke-able toys and stuffed animals while PBS (the only safe channel you don't have to monitor for attitude, backtalk, meanness, or teen drama) is playing softly on the TV in the background - more than enough to stimulate him for literally the five minutes I am washing the two frying pans and three mugs (that's all!!!), right? Wrong. I guess that wasn't enough for him. Boredom? just curious? It happened only once ever, but still...
So I hear some crawling on the wooden living room floors (one room over from the tiled kitchen), ok. I hear a friction noise, like cloth being rubbed against each other - but its hard to make out with the water running... "Kana'i?!" I call out, still soapy hands in running water.
"EEhhhuuuggghhh" a weird belch sound... Oh no, is he throwing up?!
Hand on my leg suddenly, its sticky. I look down at the little body bobbing round my knees. He's looking down...a penis. No diaper! Damn! I frantically look for a diaper around us... a few feet away - there it is, open, and dark mud like doo-doo in it... and the "mud" on the floor... and SMEARED out a few inches and then a couple drops on a trail to me... and a hand print of doo-doo right near to where we stand... F***.
"NO! Kana'i!" I'm cringing. Wiping off my hands to attack that mess when he looks up and me and smiles -
BLACK TEETH. LIPS PASTED...
You ate your f***ing doo-doo!!!!??????
Holding back a hurl. Closed my eyes. Swallowed. You can do this. I just picked him up. Held him out far from me while he starts crying. I couldn't look at him. My face and reaction must of made him realize something was wrong. He was belting out now - mouth wide open with the chunks of doo-doo falling on the way to the bathroom. Straight into the shower - I just grabbed running water and started spurring it into his mouth, scraping out the sides of his teeth and cheeks with my hands. Don't puke. Don't puke.
He was traumatized I guess, since he never tried it again... He's done a ton else since though. Curiosity didn't kill the cat.
Like the other week, I'm in the bathroom for the few minuets I need to be a basic human and somehow, he has learned to push his little white chair up against the dresser to reach the diapering materials, and grabbed the baby powder. By the time I got out of the bathroom, he had baby-powdered their ENTIRE room (they share). All the toys, the bed, the table, the stuffed animals, his sister's barbies (and worse, their hair), the mini play kitchen, their shoes and the rug were covered in white powder. I got to most of it before I decided to take pictures for the sake of venting later. But the vacuum couldn't get all the powder stuck in creases or in places like the bed sheets (which you just have to shake out and wash) or things like the barbie hair... It is just really a bi-otch to have to clean when you already have a million other things to do, appointments to make, groceries to buy before traffic hits, and a very tired pregnant body.
And then of course, he did that again. Even though I moved the baby powder, twice. Time-outs didn't seem to matter. Baby powder was too fun, I guess. So then you loose your cool and either yell at him or break down and cry by the third time...
And honestly, it's hard to stay mad at your sweet baby's face... especially when he now can say, "I sorry! Hold you! Snuggle Peez!" in-between tears... And then they do things that make you feel sorry for them, instead of mad at them... Like, when he gets stuck in the support rails of the chair and is freaking out until you rescue him (pic below).
I mean, every kid really is different. So all you mama's saying, "My kid would never-" you really don't know... Elia never did this kinda stuff, but Kana'i is just more fearless. He charged into the ocean when he could barely walk - not caring that he was choking on water, while Elia would scream and run from the wave that barely made it past her knees. Elia wanted to keep her clothes clean or change if getting dirty, but Kana'i is always covered in fish slime or dirt or whatever meat-dish was for lunch. Elia follows a bug around excited; Kana'i touches the bug and licks his fingers. Ugh. Boy vs. Girl? Maybe. But then some moms never catch their boys eating poo or interested in their diaper area...
Two weeks ago, I walked out of my room after being on the phone with insurance. I had to be in a room away from the kids as they always make noise and want all your attention everytime you get on the phone (all you parents know this is true, all you doubters, just wait till you have kids). I noticed it was very QUIET (=mischief)... Kana'i is bent over, butt naked (he can take off all his clothes at barely two years old, apparently), holding himself up with one hand, while the other hand is holding the pretend doctor thermometer from those toy kits, trying to stick the thermometer into his - you know.
"NO!" I yell. Don't yell. Don't scare him or he'll hurt himself. Be calm. "Kana'i, Honey, don't move." Smile. Holy F***! I hope it's not already in there! I walked over briskly and he rose up, showed me the thermometer in his hand and proudly says with a huge grin, "My butt!"
I checked his okole - no redness, no swelling... couldn't see anything else in there. Whew. Ok. He's ok. But then I look around. He has the entire Play-Doctor Kit out, all the tools lined up and he is pointing to them all one by one saying proudly, "My butt. My butt. My butt..."
Clorox. Everything. Spray. Soak. Dried. Sprayed again. Sprayed and cleaned all the toys that were out around the kit and possibly apart of the doctor ordeal. It was a long afternoon. A lot of "Honey, we only play like this with this, ok?" ... We never take his temperature that way - So I don't even know how he would have thought to do that. He doesn't see us put anything down there - and our doctor doesn't either. No, I didn't get a picture. Some moments are too exceptional to remember to capture.
So conclusion? What to you do when your kid is the kind that eats poo, makes a mess, sticks things where they shouldn't go? I don't really know. I just do my best to get through it, calm down, tell him I love him, that it's ok - And try to remember, it can always be worse.