(More than) Fourinarow.net

My first very-own pet was a cat.  Spanky.  I got her while I was still in college and she managed to survive – through the rest of college, a move to California, a move to Texas, a move to Missouri and then a move to Tennessee.  Somewhere in there, though, she developed a peculiar condition.  Mega Colon.

Sounds pleasant, no?  She saw several veterinarians before we found one that diagnosed her.  Basically she was missing something that helped move things along and out of her system in the regular way.  (She barfed a lot and pooped rocks.)  Her condition resulted – literally – in a mega colon.  Her colon expanded to house what it wasn’t moving out.  Can you imagine?

The “cure” was to remove the colon, and reattach the intestines to… something else.  She went on to survive many more years, although I don’t think her digestive system was ever right.

What, you ask, does this have to do with anything?

I’m getting there.

I think maybe there’s something wrong with me.  Nononononono… I don’t have a problem with my system.  But, somehow, young creatures coming under my care seem to have similar… ah… digestive problems.  (First the cat, then the kids.) Common denominator?  Me.

I admit, I’m the worst potty trainer EVER.  The books all say not to push, that the child is ready when they’re ready… not to get emotional.  Ha.  I flunked that course.  I definitely got emotional, so much so that you’d think I’d have scared the sh*t out of my kids.  Instead it backfired.  I somehow managed to scared the sh*t into staying INSIDE the kids.

So, essentially what I’m trying to tell you is that I have two children on yet another pooping strike.  (I won’t name the children, in an effort to protect them from embarrassment in later years.)  Jack and Maria My kids can hold out for DAYS.  You know from their behavior that they need to go and they just WON’T.  I just don’t get it!  Get on the pot and do it already!!!

Because of their striking behavior, my kids take Miralax.  We buy it in the biggest container available for sale, but I still wish we belonged to Sam’s Club so we could purchase it in 50-pound quantities.  If it wasn’t for the Miralax, I’d definitely be freaking out concerned about the Mega Colon thing.  Even with the medicine, they can hold it for days.  Sometimes even a week.  Seriously, I don’t know how come their heads don’t pop off or their bodies don’t explode.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?  I can’t believe I did it, but I did…  I really stooped this time…

I offered my kids a dollar for whoever had the biggest poop.  Rules were that they had to do it IN THE POTTY and I HAD TO SEE IT. (Maria has become quite the accomplished liar.)  Lovely contest, don’t you think?

It worked.