the shit hits the tub

there is no better time than now to begin.

it began with an innocent request. music to my ears, really, as mother of a not-yet-potty-trained two year old.

"mommy! i have a wee wee coming!", potty stool in hand, removing diaper as he ran.

two seconds later i stood amazed as my sweet second born peed into the toilet by his own initiative. this is the way to do it, i thought. look how smart i am the second time around! this is going to be so easy! all i have to do is nothing and he'll potty train himself! brilliant!

two more seconds later and he was pooping on my foot.

it was bath time so the natural reaction was to throw the boy into the tub with big brother. no problem. i can do this. get the bleach spray and remain calm.

two minutes later he was pooping in the water-filled tub.

and on the floor as i desperately tried to transfer him to the toilet.

it is now two hours later and since that time i have found poop on the shower curtain, on my pants and in the bathroom sink as my children gathered to brush their teeth. i have gazed at poop flecks in the tub with my five year old, exclaiming how this one looks kind of like a meteor and hey! that one looks like a sword! i have knelt in poop and cleaned it from beneath my fingernails.

i am zoloft mom.