Poop

Is it ok to curse on one's own blog? For really, instead of saying Poop, I really want to scream out loud "shit!" I've been dealing with flying poop the last couple of days - really since Dennis went back to work. Dennis has been, heretofore, the main diaper changer. And I suppose I'm just not as adept or less lucky in the diaper changing department. I spent an hour cleaning up poop that sprayed across the carpet yesterday. Oh, did I mention it went all over the table first and down the little space between the drawers and table? It made the other poop accidents - the ones I managed to stop in time with my bare hands or diaper but nevertheless soil enough of Evan and clothes and surrounding area - seem so easy in comparison. But still they take their toil, especially when it happens twice in the middle of the night. A thorough cleaning always wakes Evan up fully, which means a prolonged wake and soothing time, which means lost sleep. That's one poop issue I have. The other comes from Zoe who refuses to use the potty. I've been so good about not pressurizing her - because I did before and it backfired. Well, this morning, I lost it and pressured her again. When Zoe came and told me to leave her alone - code word for she is about to go poo poo in her diaper - I suggested gently she use the potty instead. When she went from zero to one hundred on the cry dial, I lost it and yelled at her. I told her that she has to learn at some point because she is a big girl now and she replied "No, I am a baby still!" I had to leave the room because I was so mad and I really shouldn't say anything when I'm mad. So now, as I type this, she may well have a budge in her diaper that needs changing. I'm so vexed. I know that no child goes to elementary school with diapers, but I don't know when Zoe is going to learn. I fear that my occasionally pressure is two steps forward and one step back. I should go out to the garden to curse. Because that's all I want to do now. Then perhaps I can say "C'est la vie" after. Life is, after all, very good.

Update: Sometimes Zoe says such disarming things I don't know if I should cry or laugh. Following the outburst with Zoe over the potty - as recounted above - I left Zoe alone in her room to "think about it," while I retreated to blogging about it. All was quiet for about twenty minutes. Then I hear Zoe's feet peter patter out. She walked up to me and addressed me. When I turned to face her, she said, "Mama, I forgive you." I was speechless! Then, I said, "And I forgive you!"