Heather Thurmeier

Oh what a day it’s been and it’s only 11:06am. The pooptastrophie started this morning at around 10 while we were leisurely watching Bunnytown.

M: “Me pants wet.”

Mum: “Oh, no. Did you go pee-pees?”

M: “Yes”

Mum: “That’s weird since you just went pee-pees a few minutes ago, remember? Did you have a little accident?”

At this point I pulled down M’s pants to investigate and assess the amount of wetness only to discover a brown splatter like someone had thrown chocolate cake batter against a wall. Eeewwww! A shart!

We go into the bathroom to clean up and even after most of the mess was gone, I didn’t feel good about M getting dressed. So into the tub we go. Yeah, bath time! Since M is mostly clean, K can have her bath at the same time.

M and K were having a good time dumping water on each other, Mum was enjoying a cup of coffee, and the bathroom was once again a serene place. But not for long…

Mum: “K get down, no climbing!”

I get up to stop K from trying to climb up the very tiny slippery ledges, and that’s when I see it. Dangling.

Mum: “Code brown, people! This is not a drill. We have spotted a floater!”

I quickly scoop K out of the tub, the dangler falls, and I place her on the conveniently located potty beside the tub. I try to hold K on the potty with my foot, while I grab the flushable wipes and attempt to retrieve the floater. K repeatedly tries to get off of the potty, I retrieve and toss the offenders into the toilet, M sits in the tub unable to escape under her own power. I rescue M, and send her into a towel and out of the bathroom. K gets up from the potty again and has left a present. But not in the potty, on the side of the potty! Eeeewwww. She tries to escape the bathroom but I am too quick and I wrangle her into a towel and some toilet paper. Then she’s off to follow M and I am left to clean up the wreckage.

I empty the tub and hose it down with the hottest water that will come out of my shower. Clean the little potty, flush and then have to plunger the big toilet because it will only flush like 3 wipes at a time and not the 10 that I threw in there. Fun.

I hear from the bedroom, “oh no.” Great, now what?!  M has left a little tiny piddle on the carpet in K’s room. Yeah! M goes to the toilet, I fill the tub again, and go to catch a naked K before she decides to piddle on my floor too.

Now as I write this, both girls are enjoying a nice, warm, clean bath. But you just never know what dangers are lurking in these waters. Daaaa-du, Daaa-du, da-du, da-du, da-du… (think Jaws).

I do not get paid enough.

Before I had children of my own, I would hear Mums and Dads talk to their kids in what I’ll call ‘kidlish’ and I never understood why they did it. Why say, “Ba-ba” when you could just as easily say “Bottle?” It sounded so ridiculous to hear them ask their little one, “Do you want your ba-ba?” ‘No’ I’d think to myself, he wants his BOTTLE! I always though those parents were just teaching their kids to speak badly and they were just being lazy. Then I became a parent.

It’s funny how our perceptions change when we become the ones in the situation. Now I regularly use kidlish to communicate with my 2.5 year old. Why? Because I’m lazy! And a lot of times it’s just easier to say it their way instead of wasting the energy trying to get them to say it correctly. I know there are probably some of you saying right now that you will not do that with your children. Maybe you won’t, but I suspect you will!

Kidlish is kinda like everything else concerning parenting and children. I believe there is one universal, central rule that every parent (regardless of parenting style) will agree on. It’s cuter when it’s your kid! Kidlish is a classic example of that rule. It’s not annoying or silly to hear them say words in their own little way. Hell no! It’s damn cute when your precious little baby finds her voice and asks you for a “ba-ba.” Then you look at her with a new twinkle in your eye, “Did you just say ba-ba? Do you want your ba-ba? Baby wants her ba-ba, what a little cutie you are! Here you go sweetie!!” And the damage is done. From then on, the bottle will forever be known in your head and heart as a ba-ba.

Here is one that is in my heart for all eternity. It’s my favorite by far. M’s word for naked time is ‘Nah-nies’. She is one of those kids that just loves naked time and we usually let her run around for a bit before and after bath time. But before she could really ask for that, she started saying “Me nah-nies!” when we would strip her down for the bath. Then she would pat her belly and take off down the hall. And of course we thought it was the cutest thing on earth! So for the last year and a half or so, it’s been nah-nies time. And if it’s not bad enough that one child says it, now we say it to K too so she is bound inherit that term.

Now that I’m a parent, I guess I feel differently about these things. Now I don’t find it annoying to hear mine or other peoples children use kidlish. Now I find it cute and endearing. I guess I’ve realized that they grow up so fast and that soon they will use proper words, so why not enjoy their sweet little language while you can?

In your childs’ eyes you can see a myriad of emotions. One moment it’s love and comfort as you cuddle them on the couch and watch cartoons. Another time it’s curiosity as your baby memorizes the fine details of your face. And yet other times it’s sadness as they bumped their head or miss Dad because he’s at work. Then there is one other special time when you see great emotion pass through your childs eyes. It’s a time you couldn’t possible have imagined when you signed up to be a parent. A closeness. A bond that can only happen between a parent and their child. One moment with such raw emotion that you can’t help but understand exactly what your little one is feeling. That’s when you’re looking into the eyes of poopies!

Yep, poopies. There is nothing quite like helping your child learn to go potty. There is a closeness that forms between you and your child that you never thought you would share with anyone. It’s great when your child learns to go potty, but it comes with a lot of work. You have to show them how to pull down their pants, how to sit on the little potty, and how to wipe. Then one day they will graduate to the big potty. And if they are anything like my little pooper, they will want your help the first dozen or so times they sit on it. Their bums are just so little that they feel like they are going to fall into the potty. So you have to hold them on there. That’s not so bad when it’s just pee-pees, but when it’s poopies, well that’s a different story. There’s just nothing like holding your little one around the hips, while squatting in front of the toilet, and staring directly into their eyes as they poop. It’s a special kinda moment! When you see their eyes squint just a little, then kind of glaze over with a look of intense concentration, and finally get a little red around the edges while a quiet, “ugh,” escapes their lips, that’s when you know that being a parent is so much more than you ever expected.

Having a two year old who is just finding her words is a lot more challenging than I ever imagined it would be. Most days we just find a way to communicate. I list things that she might want, and she points to what she actually wants. It works for us and it gets us through in a pinch.

Other days, it’s like playing a continuous game of charades. M will look at me, and in a very confident voice say ‘bright!’. And I, being an incredibly brilliant Mummy, will understand her completely and say, ‘Yes, Honey, very good! The light is very bright!’ Unfortunately, it usually isn’t that easy. M will then say ‘No! Bright, bright’ and start pointing at my bowl of oatmeal (or apple, or toast, or whatever I happen to be eating at the time). And then we’ll finally figure out that she was saying ‘Bite.’ OK, gotcha.

Some days involve even more interpretation. Some days M will say something that sounds sort of like this, ‘Brightfrmap’. Hmm, what the hell does that mean? Then the guessing game really begins. I will start offering suggestions of what she might be trying to convey to me and she in turn will get more and more frustrated that I’m stupid and can’t understand her perfectly pronounced Queens’ English! It goes a little something like this:

M: “Mummy, me brightfrmap hunchy.”

Mummy: “You think it’s too bright.”

M: “No. Me brightfrmap hunchy!”

Mummy: “You want a bite? Light? Bike? Go right? Happy? Hurt? Hungry?

M: “Um hm. Me brightfrmap hunchy.”

Mummy: “Oh, you want breakfast, you’re hungry!” (light bulb moment.)

M: “Yeeeesssss!!!” Squeals of delights and frenzied pointing at the box of Corn Pops. (Yes, she gets to eat Corn Pops sometimes. Because Mummy likes them, that’s why.)

And other days…we both just give up and walk away from each other never to learn what the mystery word was.