Passionate About Cincinnati
and the Moms Who Live Here

Mommy, I Need Help in the Bathroom!


Meet Ellie, my daughter. Isn’t her face just precious?!

But, don’t let those big blue eyes fool you, she has some of the nastiest stories.

Here’s ONE

My 3, almost 4-year-old, daughter is trying her best with her self-help skills. Ellie’s good at dressing, teeth brushing and cleaning up her toys (all with guidance). Pooping, however, isn’t her strongest.

Okay. So, before people get all bent out of shape. POOP.

There. I said it. POOP!!!!!! See?! It isn’t a bad word. People just don’t like to talk about it. However, when you have a 3-year-old, poop talk is a common subject of conversation.

This is just ONE of them……

“Mommyyyyyyyy, I need help in the bathroom!”

I hear this, as I begin to take my shoes off for the day. I cringe, wondering what could lay ahead. It’s not going to be Disney World in there. I know that for sure. I toss my shoes on the ground and stand up.

As I walk to the bathroom door, I go through the possibilities in my head:

  1. She threw up. Not good. My night’s not going to be fun.
  2. Pee is all over the floor. Still not good.
  3. The toilet paper fell in the toilet AGAIN. Sighhhh. Not good. Seriously kid, that stuff isn’t cheap.
  4. Or she pooped and needs help. OH BOY.

I crack open the door, walk in, and feel a squishy sensation all under my foot. Poop is now on my sock. Well, at least my sock is on.

I look up, and notice POOP is on the edge of the bathroom counter.

My eyes dart over to her, and it’s definitely NOT Disney World….

It’s EVERYWHERE. On her fingers, legs, arms, clothes, door handle, toilet seat……. Nothing. I repeat. NOTHING made it inside the toilet.

It’s not the ‘easy’ poop either. Not like diarrhea. It’s the squishy poop that doesn’t like to wipe off. CALM DOWN MOMS. We ALL know what I’m talking about.

SERIOUSLY kid, how does this even happen?!

“Mommy, HELP ME!” she cries as she’s flinging the poop off her finger, it flings onto the wall. PLOP.

First things first, I begin to strip her down. Let’s get the poop clothes off first.

“It’s okay honey,” I say gently, a few times, to calm her down. We don’t need any more poop flinging going on.

Dude, you have only been in here 5 minutes. TOPS. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?! IT’S EVERYWHERE.

I clean her off, and turn on the bathtub. It’s one of those moments as a mother, where a bath just must happen.  I toss all the clothes in the hamper, making a mental note that I’ll have to do a load of laundry tonight or my bedroom will smell like POOP.

After I get her in the bath, I smile at her. “Thank you, Mommy! I love you!” she says in the sweetest voice ever.

-Insert heart melt moment.-

“I love you too, sweetie.” I say as I bathe her. We laugh, we play, and we have a good time.

Moms, don’t beat yourself up. Poop happens. Even though sometimes, we feel frustrated.  We get grossed out. We are still good moms.

And I still need to disinfect the bathroom……

YAY.  Sigh.

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