Let's Talk about your Duties

Wow, so the last time I actually wrote something was in February 2011…  So much has happened to me since then.  Still living in Buenos Aires, found a job that I love (see previous post), oh and Ale and I had the COOLEST DAUGHTER EVER!  

That’s right folks, I’m officially apart of the M.I.L.F.S. club.   Is that weird to say about yourself?  If the shoe fits, right???  Am I right?!?!

So her name is Lola, and thus far she is NOT a showgirl, but we’ll let her decide on that; although I guarantee there will be no shortage of Barry Manilow music in her life…

So, let’s get to the point.

I would say that my parents, for the most part, always gave me what I wanted.  They were loving, motivating and always there for me. 

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However, one thing they most certainly did not do was buy me the book, Everyone Poops.  

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Full disclosure: I’m going to get a little personal here, so stop reading if you don’t like TOO MUCH INFORMATION…

I’ve always been a nervous pooper…  I remember the first time I went to the cottage with an ex boyfriend.  I didn’t poop for 7 days…  The sounds, the smells, the “excuse me I’m going to the bathroom,” only to return 20 minutes later to smiling, knowing faces.  I just couldn’t do it.  And so I waited 7 agonizing days..  

Next came college.  Trying to relax when there are 50 girls coming in and out of the bathroom yelling, puking whatever they drank that night, talking on the phone (ew because that's sanitary).  A girl just couldn’t catch a break. 

Things got a little bit better during my travels, because let’s face it, when you’ve got a case of Delhi-Belly you don’t care who hears you or what they think.  

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Then you have a child and it’s suddenly all about their bowel movements.  You’re waiting in the line at the supermarket and some chummy old lady strikes up a conversation, which typically goes, “Aww, she’s so cute!  And how’s she latching on to the boob?  And is she pooping regularly??”  

Like as if the sanctity of what my child does in her private time is somehow open game for Q&A.  “You can ask about my boob lady, but keep my kid’s poop out of it!!”

This isn’t just limited to strangers; it seems like we’ve all got poop on the brain.  When Ale changes her, I find myself asking him, “So how was her poop?  Was it a lot?  What color? And the consistency?” 

I have this out of body experience when I hear myself asking these questions, but I just can’t stop myself.  I’d like to think that I used to talk about highly intellectual things like art, the economy, politics, did-you-see-crazy-youtube-video, whatever.  But now it seems like all I talk about is poop.

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And so that brings me to the point of, why don’t more people talk about it, if we know that everyone does it?  I get that gals want to keep the romance alive, but why is it that they choose to hide the most natural thing the human body can possibly do.  Hide that your blond hair is actually brown.  Hide that you get your do-dah waxed on a frequent basis or that you secretly have all of your children's names picked out... But DON’T try to hide the fact that you poop…  

You eat, you digest and then ultimately you POOP!  Get over it; it’s not going to make him like you any less if he finds out that *gasp* you drop the kids off at the pool daily. 

I'm not saying lets get into detail about every little thing, but lets just at least acknowledge that we as adults, as humans, we all do it, ok?

And to my kiddo, don’t worry.  Mommy and Daddy will most certainly be reading you Everyone Poops, so that we can give you the gift of not having irritable bowel syndrome.  It’s the gift that keeps on giving… daily…

For all of you who think poop, farts, burps, etc are still funny: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xzTbFI9sg8

Poo!!!??