I Spy Something Brown

Poop. All day long I am dealing with other people’s poop. I don’t mean people that are difficult or annoying, nor am I substituting “poop” for its inappropriate counterparts. I literally mean…well, we’ll call it the big Number 2.

You are instructed to pay close attention from the beginning of your parenting journey when they give you a chart to record the contents of every diaper. We were still in the hospital with our first little angel when she had one of the infamous black tar looking poops. We promptly buzzed the nurse and told her about the dirty diaper. “Uh, then you can change it,” she replied. Insert reality check here. We were the parents, and the poop was ours alone.

I really can’t remember what it was like to not have my day revolve around another person’s bowel movements. In a home with three children 6 and under someone is always pooping. My six year will yell through the house, “Mom I don’t have any toilet paper!” I can tell you that this is progress from the days when we she would tell me, “I can’t wipe my bottom, because I will get my pretty little thumb dirty.” We couldn’t have that, now could we? My five year old is kind enough to always alert me when he deems his poop to be juicy, so that I can do the wiping.

“Did you poop in your diaper,” I ask my two year old. “No,” he replies stink wafting my way as he runs to hide. On several occasions I have simultaneously taken care of all three little bums. I calculated once that I have changed around 18,000 diapers in the past 6 years. I wonder how many pounds of poop that would be? I don’t think I want to know the answer.

In your pre-parent days the thought of any kind of poop touching you anywhere is revolting. The first time you get the exploding out of the back of the diaper variety all over you, you do want to run screaming, but your mommy instincts are stronger and you do what needs to be done. I am so de-sensitized that I stepped on a pile of soggy dog poop in the yard with my barefoot and I didn’t even flinch. I do feel a little bit of pride in my ability to handle all sorts of bodily fluids with Navy Seal like execution.

I understand that the daily wiping of multiple bottoms is just one of many phases of parenthood. When I am faced with three hormonal teenagers I am quite certain I will long for the days when poop was my biggest issue. Broken hearts, hurt feelings, and bruised egos will not be so easy to wipe away.

So, right now I’m okay with a poop filled life. Poop means that their hands are still smaller than mine, that they give kisses freely and often, that an airplane in the sky is something to squeal about every time, and that I am always where they turn when they need some help.

That's Not a Cloud, it's Chlorine!

I can't start my day without coffee. I will absolutely get a headache around 9 o'clock if I do not consume a cup. This addiction is so bad that my children have learned from a very early age that no matter what time they wake up no one is getting breakfast until I have had a caffeine boost. It's not, "Good Morning" in our house, instead it's "Mommy drink your coffee so we can eat!" I know that I should give it up, but if a tiny growing human in my belly could not persuade me to stop then I am a lost cause.

My habit started my Junior year of college when my new roommate set up her four cup coffee maker on top of our mini fridge. "Come on, just try some," she urged. It's not like she was offering me crack, so I tried it with plenty of cream and sugar. There was no turning back, I was hooked. We made coffee in all flavors all times of the day for the next two years. I sometimes feel the need to have an afternoon coffee in the Fall, perhaps I am feeling nostalgic, but midnight rolls around and I am wide awake and acutely aware that I am getting older.

My husband of 10 years is just as addicted to coffee as I am. We had to upgrade from a 12 cup to a 14 cup! I suppose I would have kept drinking it even if he didn't, but it is nice that when he goes to fill his cup up he takes mine too. He has done his best over the years to try and make it just the way I like it with a little sugar and a little cream. It's the "little" part he has trouble with and I never have the heart to tell him it's wrong. He would tell you that I did throw a kink in our system a couple of years ago when I switched to Splenda. A little goes a long way, and what man is good with that concept?

After my third baby I was looking for any way to cut calories and sugar in my diet. It was easy to switch from sugar to Splenda and make a big difference since I drink 3-4 cups a day. Two years have passed since I switched, and things were going good until a friend on facebook commented that she was trying to give it up. She is a pharmacist, so I though maybe I should google Splenda. Ignorance really is bliss.

I learned that Splenda was called Sucralose, a substance that was first intended to be an insecticide. Fabulous. Sucralose is made when sugar is treated with trityl chloride, acetic anhydride, hydrogen chlorine, thionyl chloride, and methanol in the presence of dimethylformamide, 4-methylmorpholine, toluene, methyl isobutyl ketone, acetic acid, benzyltriethlyammonium chloride, and sodium methoxide. Damn Google. It has ruined my morning coffee.

I have spent the past two months trying to give up Splenda. I have bought every kind of natural sweetener on the shelf in Whole Foods and have determined they do not sweeten anything. Truvia, Stevia, Agave Necter have all had their chance, but they have all fallen short. I can't go back to Splenda now that I know it's full of chlorine! I am guessing that even in small doses it's probably not something you should be ingesting every day. There have been no studies on the long term effects, and I don't care to be a participant.

So, I am back to sugar, but now I have all this guilt! Once you get to a certain age the sweet treats you once ate with reckless abandon seem to taunt you with every bite.

"Do you really need to eat me?"

"Do you realize how long you'll be on the elliptical if you put me in your mouth?"

"You know where I'm going to right? Straight to the old gulteus maximus!"

I've learned to be okay with the occasional splurge and the guilt that follows, the key word being occasional. I am fairly good at skipping the sweets, since my first snack choice is always something salty. I had a little set back when I purchased a container of Kirkland Signature Caramel Nut Clusters with Salted Caramel. If you want to compare something to crack then these babies fit the bill. Now that sugar has edged it's way back into my coffee I know I can't eat any more sweets the rest of the day. Trying to make a choice between my morning coffee and a piece of chocolate can really stress a girl out!

I'm not going to give up coffee. I can't drink coffee without cream and sugar, but I can't use sugar. I can't use Splenda because it is going to give me cancer. Google has ruined my life...where did I hide those nut clusters....