Poop, poopy, a stinky, a smelly – It’s amazing how often this subject comes up in my day.

“I smell poop.” “Did you make a poop?” “Do you have to go poopy?”

“Mommy, I made poop.  You need to wipe me!” (This is something my daughter insists on although she is 4 and goes to preschool)

“Gia, can’t you do this by yourself at this point.  I’m sure the teachers don’t help you at school,” I exasperatedly say.

“No, at school I do it myself but when I’m home you have to do it!” she stated.

Hmmm, I think to myself, um ok, I seriously don’t have a clever response to this.

“Ok then, bend over.”    

“Mom, now the baby stinks! I smell a poopy”…and on and on it goes with the poop saga.

Growing up the very idea of making a poop was a private bathroom issue that was a solo act, nothing to be shared or spoken about.  This was certainly something I didn’t talk about with others. I never even heard my Mom say that she did this sort of a thing and Dad never used the guest bathroom, it was a very sequestered matter for him and he would never even dream of saying he had to poop.

The funny thing is that when you have small children, any sense of modesty disappears.  We are having our bathroom redone and the contractor was talking to me about the fan he’s going to put in the bathroom.  He said he was going to pick one up at Home Depot and it’s great because the fan he had in mind has a muted motor without the typical loud whirring noise. … “It’s super quiet, and…”

“Wait!”  I had to stop him there…

Super Quiet! 

 “You can’t get that one! How will our guests feel comfortable pooping!”

He’s like “Oh right true, especially when your bathroom is right here.” (close to the kitchen, where everyone gathers…) “People probably ask if you have a bathroom upstairs,” he chuckled. There is currently no fan. 

We discussed the fan and the poop noise more over coffee and came to the conclusion we would try a variety of types of fans, have one person use the toilet, while the other listens and then make a decision.

KIDDING! That would be disgusting! 

Later that day, I was thinking about our conversation- I didn’t even flinch or feel my face  suffer the flames of embarrassment talking straight poop.  Bathroom talk aside, he’s a man, which would have upped the embarrassment factor even more.  I suffered from extreme shyness talking to boys when I was a girl, in fact, even as an adult I found myself red faced and mumbly when I talked to men, other than my husband and family members!  Don’t know what that’s about but the way Arianna cries when little Johnny tries to kiss her in music class leads me to believe she suffers from this ailment as well.

Not so sure about my oldest, Gia.  Perhaps she isn’t comfortable with boys either, as of late, she is a tattle tale, telling on the boys.  She has just figured out a different way to deal with them – make them out to be the bad guys! 

Anyway, the point is, for me, having my girls around, makes me feel completely uninhibited when it comes to matters of the toilet bowl or really any matter.  There’s just something about being a Mom that makes you feel like a lion who can deal with anything that comes her way.  Watch out world- Momma Jill is queen of her castle…yes Tom(that’s my husband), it is a castle:)