Friday, July 20, 2007

Poop Poop Poop A Doop

I believe that I may have singlehandedly solved Quinn's constipation problem with a song. That's right, with a song.

I have known for awhile that—beyond his physical issues—he dislikes pooping. Which seems right, especially because he has been victim to some particularly vicious, and probably extremely painful, pooping episodes. It used to be that I would see him obviously trying to hold it back, and he would always say no when I asked if he wanted to poop, or if he would feel better if he pooped, and whatnot.

At his last constipation checkup (and how ridiculous that he has to have those) the doctor told me to be very positive when he pooped and that we didn't want to make it into a control issue for him. Because, basically, if he can refuse to poop after I've plied him with Miralax, fiber wafers, and as much apple juice as he can drink, I should just cede defeat here, because this is not a battle I can win.

Unless you factor in the power of a good song about the act itself. For the past three weeks whenever I have caught him pooping or whenever I change his poopy diaper—and only then—I sing a song I made up: "Poop Poop Poop A Doop," sung to the tune of "Duke of Earl." (I'm sure you can recreate this song at home from just those hints.) "Poop Doop again," he'll say.

And?

And for the past two and a half weeks, he has pooped Every. Single. Day.

This is something he has not done since he was literally younger than 3 months old. Maybe he's progressing past his physical issues and just has to overcome some psychological pooping issues (can't wait to get the Google search on that one). I'm not saying that we're going to stop hiding the Miralax in his chocolate millk, and I'm not saying that he'll never again have a stool ball, but I've never been so happy to change a diaper packed full of crap in my life.

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