The Gonzalez Family Herald

Headlines and commentary from a Northern California family of seven.

Friday, May 12, 2006

I'm poopy!

I knew I'd catch you with that title! Actually, I figured since I used an exclamation point it would really draw your eye to the title. But seriously...

My youngest daughter (three years old this July) is an insanely smart and able child. I say this because of a regular routine that happens every night at about 9:00 PM. See, at about 8:30 or so my wife and I begin the rounding up of scattered child, rushing them into the bathrooms for teeth brushing and other hygenic procedures, then pushing them into their rooms for pajamification and beddedness preparation. All of our kids are pretty used to this process and willfully limit their defiance to our instruction in an effort to get more time before lights-out. However, our youngest daughter has developed a system of her own by which she single-handedly pushes the parental patience limit beyond the point of reasonable. Some might say that she takes us to a state borderline neuroinstability. Whatever the case, it has been working on my nerve and, without going Terminator on her, I had to devise a means by which to deal with this frustration.

A two year old with an agenda
Every night at about 9:00, just as the noise of bedtime reduces to a quiet hush, a loud two year olf voice rings out through the hallway. "I'm poopy!" Now, I know what you are thinking. You're thinking "Every night? She does this every night?".

Yes. Every night. This kid is the only person that I have ever known that has complete and total control over bowel movements. It's almost like she summons some internal power and decides "I want to get out of bed right now. I should poop myself.". What's even better about all this is that about fifteen minutes later, there is the same voice ringing down the hallway...

She: "I'm wet!"
We: "Of course you are."

After taking care of that amazing feat and getting her back in bed, about ten minutes later...

She: "I'm thirsty!"
We: "Of course you are."

My theory
Although she is only two (going on three) she has the tactic formulating capability of a seasoned army general on the eve of a large scale invasion. She has the logic of an astrophysicist planning complex orbital rotations of planetary bodies. She is a genius at not staying in bed.

First, she poops herself. How? Got me. Then she wets herself. Stumped again. Then comes the thirst. This kinda makes sense to me, seeing as she purged herself of all her solid and liquid waste. And each time, she looks at us as though she is saying "I own you". I can just imagine her thought process...

"If I dirty my diaper, they have to change me... in the living room. And, if I wet my now clean diaper, they have to change me again... in the living room. And, after all that hard work, I tell them I'm thirsty, they will get me something to drink... from the kitchen. It's perfect. I can dodge sleep for another half hour at this rate. And if I am really cute, mom won't even notice that I am cuddling right next to her on the couch. And dad won't even think about me if I am really quiet while I sit between him and mom. Yeah, that's the way to go. Dirty the diaper, wet the diaper, ask for a drink, cuddle with mom, interfere with parental bonding time, stay awake longer than I should and wear out my parents at the same time. It's brilliant!"
So, according to the will of the household two year old, my wife and I tend to her every whim, under her control every step of the way. And all of this takes precious minutes of adult mommy and daddy time, managing her poops, peeps, dry throat and the whatnot.

In fact, by the time all of this calamity is settled, my wife and I are pooped. Figuratively, of course.

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