Sweet Love Down by the Humidifier

So the other day, Mr. Poppins popped out of the shower and asked, "Did you write WTF on the shower wall?"

Secret Lulu has brightly colored foam letters that stick nicely to the glass of the shower wall but, and I say this without smugness because it's probably only because I haven't thought of it, I do not play with them. So I go look in the shower--in no way distracted by Mr. Poppins nakedness because, hey, it's been like a decade now--and sure enough, grouped in a tidy little row are the letters "WTF" then a space and another grouping "C3H9," which may or may not be a death threat to the Republicans.

Hard to tell.

Anyway, apparently Secret Lulu is sick of this sh*t and would like us to know all about it. Who knew?

And then we all got a hacking cough, which totally sucks in its own right, but sucks way more hardcore when the resident three-year-old happens to have a coughing phobia. It was a rough few days but now both the cough and the phobia seem to have dissipated. Although neither are entirely gone.

But the best thing was the other night when--did I mention the hacking cough--I plugged in the humidifier in a last ditch attempt to get some sleep. Boy does that humidifier give off a romantic green glow. And yet, somehow Mr. Poppins resisted my phlegmy offer of sweet love down by the humidifier. Actually, I was in no mood, but I just couldn't resist throwing it out there. Somehow I never get play when I do my Chef from South Park  imitation.

Go figure.

And then, just when I resigned myself to it never happening, Secret Lulu got potty trained. I say "got" like it happened spontaneously, without a whole lot of effort on my part. In truth it was the crucible of potty training. Secret Lulu has had the basics--from pulling down her pants to washing her hands--down pat for almost a year. She does everything that looks like being autonomous in the bathroom except that she Just Will Not Pee (or Poo)--until now. She may grow up to be a pole sitter, for certainly she has the endurance and the bladder control. I'm not going to worry about whether or not she becomes a pole dance--that's Mr. Poppins gig.

But for now I'm relieved and, pun intended, so is Secret Lulu.

Also, I think it would be appropriate at this point to give a shout out to Baby Doc, which is the Dol's husband (and Baby Dol's father--that nickname just got all the more cute and clever under scrutiny). I put a call in to him for free advice, as I so often do, concerning the quality and nature of Secret Lulu's poo, as it so often does. And, although I'm pretty sure I could hear eye rolling over the phone (kidding: Baby Doc saves his eye rolling for when I can see it), he gave me The Best Advice Ever.

Well, the best advice ever besides "don't use your teeth."

Anyway, if you are training a child who would rather hold their urine for eight hours and their bowel movements for eight days rather than just put it in the freaking potty which they are sitting on anyway, happily chomping on starburst candy in spite of lies you told the dentist at her last visit, well, this advice will save you. And since you don't have Baby Doc on speed dial the way I do, I'm going to give to you right here and now.

For free.

There is a product called Miralax, taste free and non-gritty, which will keep everything soft so that an irrational fear of the poo'ing in the potty doesn't become a well-founded fear of poo'ing ever. Just stir a teaspoon (or a little less) into a drink--I favor about 3 oz. of  rootbeer as I am absolutely sure that Secret Lulu will not hesitate to drink every drop--and do that once a day, every day until a healthy pattern returns and the fear of poo is no more.

Amen.

What else? Oh, I have actually been working on my book. For reals. No, seriously. Every day. For the whole available time (that being the wonderful but oh-so-fleeting time Secret Lulu is in preschool). I've changed the entire thing over to first person (from third person, for those of you who haven't been forced to read 8 million revisions), and I'm having so much fun.

So much.

I always thought first person was cheating but, heck, in high school (not college, people) I cheated on my math homework, and my physics homework, and, from what Diosa remembers, my English homework, too. I'm pretty sure I just didn't bother turning in any French homework. So anyway, what I'm saying is that, historically, I am a big ol' cheating cheater with the cheating so why I imposed a completely arbitrary set of rules on my own writing and then felt compelled to follow them, well, I just can't say.

Probably because I don't rightly know.

In any case, this is one of those posts that don't go anywhere and aren't about anything but you know that's not what you come here for, people. You come here for my fabulous. Or, like the Dol, because you are wasting time at work.

Either way, I've got you covered.

Comments

[Equipoise]

Good thing you posted. I was just thinking of emailing you today because I realized I hadn't seen you post in a while. Lucky you! You were spared from my concerned email!
Sorry to hear about the hacking cough...and the phobia but so happy for you and a very relieved Secret Lulu. Thanks for the advice...I'll put it away for a few years from now. Take care!
P.S. Excited about the book! :)

[Karita (was Razzler)]

Nice to see you! And thanks, you helped tremendously with the work avoidance issues I am facing.

[Alice]

Right, so my kid has those letters, too. They came in a bin with, like, 300 pieces. Who puts all those letters in the tub? I don't have that kind of space, you know. Anyhow, so I strategically picked out letters - I chose the letters in his name, the letters in my name, and the letters in the words "oh shit", just in case.

Have you and Mr Poppins really been married for a decade?

Can I read your book? Sheesh.

[Diosa]

Polly is only slightly exaggerating about it being a decade. And I still remember you cheating off my vocabulary tests and wearing that black and white tie die t-shirt.

[The Dol]

I mostly use Facebook for goofing off at work, especially since you haven't been posting as much lately.

Baby Doc was glad he could help. He and I both love a potty-trained kid. We still haven't achieved independent butt-wiping after a poop, but we're getting there.

[j]

Miralax has been our friend since before it was OTC. Incidentally, as a money saving tip-your doc can still write a script for it and you get more than twice the amount for half the price :) (Yes, I know WAY too much about poop).

And as for being a cheater...weren't we all? I distinctly recall sitting on the floor in the hall very early in the am doing homework swapping. Of course, in retrospect, that probably wasn't the best place to be doing it.

[aunt]

We used Metimucill (spelling?) And it sounds like the girl potty-trained similarly to her older and similar-looking cousin. Go Lu.

[Polly Poppins]

Equipoise, I am still here. I am just writing a whole book, which is way better than a blog post.

Karita, any time.

Alice, see Diosa's comment.

Diosa, I know you wanted that shirt.

Dol, the key to independent butt wiping is longer arms. Simple, and yet oh-so-elusive.

j, homework is of the devil.

aunt, miralax is tasteless and non-gritty. And no accidents.