Like riding a bike, I always thought that once you mastered the art of pooping, you were good for life. But as it turns out, that journey is a lot more complicated. Our 4-year-old son has hit a few bumps on this road.
There I was, lounging on the toilet, scrolling through my phone to catch up with family and friends. This was my “me time.” I didn’t actually need to use the bathroom, but it’s a rare occasion when a parent can sneak away for a moment of peace—especially during that chaotic hour after dinner and before bedtime. Think of it as a mini spa retreat, just for a few minutes of tranquility. During this precious time, I stumbled across a funny post from my younger sister. It went something like, “I’ll NEVER get used to cleaning poop out of the tub!” I couldn’t help but chime in: “Oh my gosh, that’s so gross!”
A couple of kindhearted friends joined the conversation, sharing their sympathies. It suddenly dawned on me that I might be tempting fate. So, in a feeble attempt to reverse the jinx, I commented again, “Oh, that sounds terrible! We’ve been lucky so far.” The truth was, I was just faking it. After all, this kind of chaos doesn’t happen if you’re vigilant and attentive… right?
Then came the dreaded shout from my wife: “Joe! Oh no… Joe!”
I was on the couch enjoying some downtime with our 4-year-old when life took a turn for the worse. “He had an accident. In the tub!”
Shit. I’m sure there are parents who have somehow avoided this nightmare. But I felt like I was in a scene from a horror movie, extracting a floating turd while trying to keep my cool for the sake of my child. I had to be strong, even if our relationship would never be the same again.
Karma wasn’t done with me yet. We thought we’d learned our lesson and let our guard down. Days passed without our son making a “poop family” in the potty, as he calls it when he poops in phases. When we encouraged him to try, he became resistant in a way that only a 4-year-old can. He developed a fear of pooping.
We tried coaxing and bribing—chocolate worked a few times, but it came with tears. Eventually, he flat-out refused. Pain from being backed up became an unfortunate reality, and no amount of logic or reasoning could convince him otherwise. What happened next ranks among the dumbest decisions I’ve ever made.
I thought a warm bath would do the trick.
And it did. Our son, who is the size of an average 7-year-old, proved that a backed-up 4-year-old can poop like a grown man after a heavy meal. Amid tears and splashes in the fecal-infested bath water, I learned the true power of karma. That moment, I knew I had to learn my lesson.
In our modern family dynamic, my responsibilities as a father are more extensive than those of past generations. I strive to be a caring and competent nurturer. Yet, some tasks are uniquely suited for a mother. When it’s been a few days without a successful trip to the potty, my wife steps in as the guiding force our son desperately needs.
Together, they retreat to the bathroom, where she calms his fears with gentle reassurances. She endures his protests and tearful apologies, reminding him that this is a natural process. She lights candles, dims the lights, and remains unflappable for hours. Eventually, he trusts her, holding her hand as she offers the emotional support he needs to let his body do what it was made to do.
Without realizing it, driven solely by her immense love, my wife has transformed into a poop doula.
In summary, parenting is a journey filled with unexpected challenges, and sometimes, it takes a special kind of support to navigate them. If you’re interested in more parenting stories, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Leave a Reply