>The Neverending Butt Wipe
>I was in a conference call with two women the other day, when I heard an all-too-familiar sound.
“Oh, Mom-meeeee, a little help, please!”
It was my four-year-old daughter, calling to me from the downstairs bathroom.
Oh shit, I thought. Literally.
“Uh, can you guys hold on just a minute?” I asked. “I have to go, well, um…” Oh, who was I kidding? These women were moms, too. They could take the truth.
“I have to go wipe a butt.”
“Go ahead,” one of the women said. I could hear her own child screeching in the background. “I’ll probably have to do the same thing here in a minute.”
When I returned to the phone, it struck me that for all the advice and conversation among moms about potty training, no one really prepares you for the stark reality of what’s to come afterward.
I’m talking about one-to-two more years of butt wiping, people. Your child will learn to do it on her own, but preschoolers can’t always complete the job to your (and everyone else in smelling distance’s) satisfaction, so there will be more times than you can count that you feel compelled to assist… or pay the consequences.
I can just hear all you “new mommy” readers gasping right now, and you have every right to be horrified. The butt wiping years are sort of like finding out you’re still on probation once your potty training sentence is complete.
I mentioned as much to the moms on the phone.
“I mean, once Punky was potty trained, I had no idea I still wasn’t done,” I told the other moms sheepishly. “But I realized pretty quickly that I was going to have to assist. More times than I’d like.”
“Mmm hmm,” one of the moms replied. “You have to help out off and on until they’re about five.”
I sighed, realizing that with Bruiser coming along, I still have a good three-to-four years left of periodic butt wiping before I’m finally done for good.
That means I’ll probably be performing at least a thousand more butt wipes, people.
Shouldn’t there be a medal for this, or something? A trophy or a badge of honor, or a letter of commendation from the governor?
Mine would say, In recognition of Lindsay Ferrier, for the selfless act of buttwiping.
I know. I’m so nice it makes me sick sometimes.
>My honey is hoping I can just make it through changing diapers, I have such a sensitive nose, there are countless odors that literally make me gag, eyes water, the whole bit. Sadly, I think this is one of those thankless deeds that goes unnoticed.
>You’d be amazed at how desensitized you become to your own child’s poo (usually, anyway). Other people’s poo, however, will never fail to horrify you.
>I really didn’t have this problem with my daughter, number 1 in a series of 2 that must be potty trained. Mainly, because potty training happened during a stressful time and I was on auto pilot for most of it. It, also, helped that we were in close quarters with her older cousin, who was potty trained and kind enough to show her the way. Another helpful tidbit, was that my daughter was in school by 3 yrs old and was required to wipe her own butt during those hours. Sure there were some after effects found later, but she learned after many traumatic experiences of having her Tinkerbell panties thrown away. (I assure you this wasn’t puinshment, but out of sanitary.)We have had a setback, now that she is 6 yrs old, and she recently called to me to wipe her butt. I simply, and with love, yelled back “Wipe your own butt!”. I don’t recommend my tactics to anyone and know that payback will be hell with my son. Now, that is a mystery wrapped in a wad of gross toilet paper. Sheesh, kids are gross!! Now, that is something someone could have told me.