Well, Sam didn’t poop at all yesterday, in spite of some forty five minutes spent sitting obligingly on the pot. I couldn’t bring myself to molest him with that damned enema a fourth night in a row, and so he had to have two tonight before producing a nasty hard mass. I suppose it’s time to bypass the pediatrician and go find a shit-ologist to see what is up with my baby’s ass.
However, there is one bright spot. In the midst of tonight’s ordeal, Caroline had to fend for herself for quite awhile. At one point, I was sitting on the bathroom floor discussing poop with Sam, and Caroline wandered around the corner holding an old book.… Read the rest
Hide and go shit got serious tonight, and I thought we were going to land in the hospital with this one. Hide and go shit is bad, but I think that “hide and don’t
go shit” is worse. We’ve had to give Sam enemas for the last three nights in a row to get anything at all out, and tonight, he was pushing brown water around whatever was jammed up in his colon before he finally forced out the adult sized mass that was holding everything up.
Caroline had a playdate this weekend, and her friend’s Mom and I were talking about anal retentive kids.… Read the rest
I’d like to imagine that even though the blog is entirely about me, it can be about something besides my self-love. I thought, therefore, that you might like to meet the family. Today, let me introduce Sam, my three going-on-four-year old son. Let me introduce him, and let me introduce his favorite body part.
Yes, that’s right, folks. Today’s topic will be the almighty penis. The phallus. The wang, the willy, the trouser snake, the pecker, the albino cave dweller. That penis. My son has one and, at the ripe age of three, has already fallen in love with it. He’s also in his Oedipal phase, and believe me, if he could, he’d kick Daddy right out of the house and marry me right now.… Read the rest