I remember I friend of mine (after she became a mom) remarking that never before had poop been such a frequent topic of conversation. Perhaps I should say number two as it isn't quite as offensive, or maybe BM. There's a story I could tell you about my Mom and a different term, but perhaps that isn't mine to share... This last week has been great in the land of toilet training, well at least the first half. You see it was a week ago today that Kate last pooped. It was in the toilet and it was slightly traumatic for poor Miss Kate.
Two nights ago she had a bad bout of holding it in, she went to bed wiggling. Last night we took her on a walk around the block. As of today she wasn't going to have any more cheese or milk. I was going to feed her popcorn, all in the name of helping her body do it's thing. Every time we brought up going number two, she declared she was scared and would get upset.
Now to switch to something more serious. Recently someone said that Heavenly Father loves us so much he cares about what we care about. Last night I began to petition earnestly that Kate would be able to go. It seemed almost wrong to pray about poop, but I was getting worried. Today we prayed in the bathroom, and sweet little Kate asked me to pray. We prayed twice. Both times I felt impressed to ask specifically that it wouldn't hurt and that Kate wouldn't be afraid. Prayers don't always get answered so quickly but I know it was an answer to prayer this afternoon that although the experience was uncomfortable, Kate wasn't in pain, and it didn't hurt. I was so happy I cried a little. I hugged Kate over and over and told her that her Heavenly Father answered her prayers. Am I crazy... probably?!
Sadly the story doesn't end there. After our marathon session in the bathroom and fresh with success and an unspoiled pair of Dora underwear we set off for the park. (This was our second trip to the park this week - the first trips to the park of the season. It was so beautiful today!) We met up with some friends and Kate played, and Alice played. We were there for about five minutes when I saw the face. A face I know all too well... the pooping face. Dora was no longer unspoiled. Thank goodness for a good friend that lives beside the park and provided us with a change of clothes and a place to change. I'm still getting the hang of this toilet training business.
I think that it's good that this post doesn't have any pictures to accompany it.
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