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The Sh*t They Don't Tell You: Lesson #4

These are lessons about the trials, tribulations, and the downright disgusting parts of parenthood that they don't tell you about!

By Tiffany WadePublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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Turds in the tub!

My children are on an absurdly strict bedtime routine. (Thank you, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder!) You know, it's the typical dinner, bath, book and bed routine, but with a lot more anal retentive steps that I just can't NOT do! (My kids would never survive the night without the scrubbing behind their ears, or the weekly Monday wax removal, c'mon!)

With that being said, at seven o' clock every night, this bedtime routine is performed like a well-oiled machine, each member of the family knowing what their duty is (cue the husband with the towel for the baby) and the kids are in bed by eight at the latest. Bedtime stories read, little cheeks kissed and prayers said, eight o' clock strikes and it is officially mommy and daddy time.

I'll tell you though, my daughter's bowels had no consideration for my bedtime routine the other night!

Lesson #4: They shit when they need to shit. Be prepared.

Of course, the cute little intestines of a three-year-old could never know that her mommy is OCD and it physically pains her to be off-schedule even the slightest bit, but some part of me believes my beautiful three-year-old (i.e. demon spawn, small terrorist) gave her crap the extra push it needed to come out right before I placed her (almost) 5-month-old brother in the bath to be cleansed.

Mind you, our little Miss Z typically continues to play in the bath after her brother has been bathed, while we are busy smothering him with lotion and wrangling him into those darn button-up sleepers. And, just my luck, it couldn't be one of those turds where you can just "scoop the poop," (don't worry, I'll have a lesson on that too) but a messy array of feces verging on diarrhea. (Loose stool is the term used in the medical field.)

Picture this for me: A bathtub half full of sudsy (bedtime bath) water, a 3-year-old girl with wild hair grunting with full force, a naked 5-month-old squirming in his mother's arms and random pieces of Z's daily consumption floating about.

Now, I've battled turds in the tub before, but know I mean turds when I say turds. And by turds, I mean conveniently formed pieces of poop that require little to no effort for removal. But this...this was not by any means a conveniently formed turd. This was all-out fecal warfare. (Bring it on, Z!)

I had no option but to drain the tub and start my bedtime routine all over again, much to my husband's dismay. But this alternative bedtime routine involved an extra scrubbing of the kids (you know, in case the feces-infested water somehow misted on S.C. while he was waiting to be placed in the tub) and several stifled gags.

Parenting is not for the weak of stomach. Or the weak of heart. Shit, I wouldn't attempt it if you have any weak organs.

Kids will shit when they need to shit. Whether it be the bathtub before bed, once a fresh diaper has been fitted just so, or with flatulence to accompany the bowel movement in a busy restaurant, their internal systems just work against you in almost all instances.

My best advice for this is to bring wipes wherever you go. Grocery store, next door neighbor's, I don't care. Just bring the damn wipes. Carry them in your purse if you don't plan on bringing the diaper bag with you.

If they wear underwear, be sure to bring two changes of clothes (I carry one in the diaper bag and the other stays in my minivan) and if they're in diapers be sure to stock up the diaper bag before leaving the house. Again, I keep an extra stash of clothes and diapers for the diapered ones in the van.

Invest in a wet bag, a convenient little drawstring bag you can throw the soiled clothes in to bring home and wash (if they're even salvageable) and, as always, regardless of whatever may have come out of them that day, squeeze them tight before saying good night, and be thankful you made it through another day.

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About the Creator

Tiffany Wade

I'm just me. Tiffany. Mom of Z, B and SC.

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