This is your brain on poo

I have very little room left in my head for any significant degree of cogent and/or original thought.

Work just underwent a complete corporate reorganisation, and most of us are settling in, unpacking and doing our damnedest to keep pace with two jobs at once until the dust settles and only one gunslinger is left standing at a couple seconds past when the town bell tower strikes noon.  Or something like that.

Good thing about that is the fact that since I moved into the phone booth (ie., my new office), I had to do what most folks do when moving, and I threw out most of the 'shit' that took up space in my old office and which had been assigned an alarmingly increased degree of value for no other reason than its longevity.  I'd make a similar comment about some of the end results of the corporate reorganisation, but that would be inappropriate and insensitive.

Outside the corporate world, my focal point is on the gastrointestinal goings-on at home.  Declan peed himself in the shopping cart while we were standing in the checkout line at Superstore last night, but I'll blame myself for that one since I was inattentive when he chimed in with a series of pleading: "Up!  up!"  Am I a bad father and/or shopper for pretending like I didn't see the small puddle on the floor beside the conveyor belt?  And really, do I care at this point?

On the up-side, Dex woke this morning having spent his first full night in just his underpants and pyjamas -- and he was completely dry.  Amy called me first thing in the morning to let me know the good news.  As I type this, she is prowling the house on poop patrol.  Our toddler has yet to poo in the appropriate receptacle, deigning instead to turd on the floor or in his briefs or, once, in his bed.  Or vainly tries to constipate himself.

Our son is naked from the waist down and my good wife is not letting the boy out of her sight; she is far more relentless in her pursuit of potty propriety than Declan ever will be in finding a hidey-hole to stash his indiscretions.  The mommy will win out, I guarantee it.

This is what occupies the all of me and precludes any more poignant shriving or sharing of stuff.

Work and poo.  My mind is mush for anything else just now.

Comments

[marian]

I'm very happy that I'm not actually IN your mind right now except as a minor bit player.

Seems like the entire interweb is having a bit of a mental breakdown right now from what I've read today. I'm certainly not in tiptop shape but at least I'm not chasing turds in the sweltering heat.

I used to put Max out in the yard and have him out there naked in a corale most of the day with a sandbox and a kiddy pool and I'd hose him down when he'd poop himself. You do what you have to.

[Mark]

It sounds like you guys are in it for the long haul. I'm sure had we started Ben at the same age we would have had similar problems. Seeing how much better it is to have a toddler wearing underwear rather than (very expensive) diapers or pull-ups, I can understand the drive to potty train as soon as possible.

[Simon]

We are proud to say that Dex turded in the potty all by himself at about 10.30 this Sunday morning and refused to have either parent in the room while he attended to his business.

Yay him!

[Linda]

I've been out of this cycle for so long, I have not much more to contribute than sympathy and hope. My children are now 28 and almost 30 and both have mastered use of the potty. And I might add, they flush AND return the seat to the correct position. I'ts only a matter of time. And patience. And probly Smarties.

[Mark]

That's great! Both the kid's use of the potty, and your use of "turded."