Poop

     My oldest daughter had an accident the other day which involved poop and her wiping some of that poop on my arm.  Details omitted for the sake of our relationship and for the sake of any future mean girls in junior high (which is when, I believe, mean girls are the meanest).  So imagine me, with poop on my arm, disgusted.  My daughter is exhausted and therefore uncontrollably giggly about the whole thing.
     "You never wipe poop on people, never, ever," I say in a very non-yelling, but stern voice. "That is terrible!" I say.  She stops giggling and we head over to the bathtub.  As she climbs in, her lip begins to shake, then her chin, she sits in the running water, covers her eyes and lets out the most heartbreaking sob. 
    "Mom, you broke my feelings, Mom."  (She likes to use my name twice for dramatic emphasis) 
    "When I said 'That is terrible?'" I guessed.
    "Yes," she responded, "It was such...strong language, Mom!"

    Hopefully you will forgive my strong language as I attack the delicate subject of poop.  Yes, poop: the thing that is usually brown and smelly, and when you're getting healthy amounts of fiber, curved, or as Doctor Oz says, "C-Shaped."   I haven't paid particular attention to which alphabet letter my poop most resembles, but poop happens every day, if I'm lucky twice a day, and that is that.  I hadn't given much thought to poop, until a little over four year ago, when I became a mother.  Suddenly this stinky thing that I had long forgotten became a regular topic of my life's work and conversation. 
    "Did you see the meconium?" The doctor asked, referring the baby's very first poop--a sticky, jelly-ish, dark-brown, almost black, tar-like substance.  And after a few weeks, more questions about poop:

    "How many poopie diapers does she have in a day?"
    "What color is her poop, is it kind-of yellowish?" 
    "What is the texture of her poop?  It should be thin and slimy, almost greasy-looking."
    "Are you beginning to see the seeds in her poop?" (little pebbles in breastfed newborn baby poop)
    "Are her poops becoming less frequent, and thicker now?" (..."Now that you have ruined her life and switched to formula?")

    Poop is an overall barometer of good health.  Oh yes, and behavior.  Have you ever dealt with a constipated baby, or worse, a constipated TODLER?  You won't believe how much you value poop until your toddler is constipated.  And then of course there is the inevitable potty training.  I remember calling my mom two years ago completely panicked when I caught my daughter playing and coloring with her poop. 
   "Is it normal for kids to play with their poop?  Did any of your kids (one of my sixteen siblings) ever play with their poop?"
   "Oh yeah, oh yeah, your older brothers used to carry it around in their little, toy dump trucks and zoom it across the room.  And some of them liked to sculpt it, it's ok, it just means they're very artistic.  Just clean her up, and go out and buy her some play-dough or something."  I was stunned to silence.  You learn amazing things about your own mom when you have kids. So I stepped back and thought,  if my mom can deal with poopie dump trucks, I can deal with this isolated poop incident.  And I did.  We cleaned up and went shopping for a more suitable sculpting medium.

    The next time someone calls you, or something you do, a piece of S....Something stinky like poop, first, unfriend them on Facebook, then say "Thank you."  Because poop is essential.  There are many caring hours spent by moms across the world as they decide how to best wipe it up and toss it out.  Poop is a major labor of love in this life, so let's not give it such a bad name.