For fun it's a wonderful toy. For constipation it's a wonderful tool.

I know my daughter is going to be angry one day, for my talking about her poop to . . . well, the world.  But this was too good to pass up.  Constipation.  Sometimes it happens because your kid isn't getting enough fluids.  Sometimes it happens if they get too much protein.  Sometimes it happens from not getting enough fiber (age plus 5 for a recommended amount up to 21 grams daily in case you wondered, I only know because everyone was telling me I wasn't getting her enough, I'd ask how much was 'enough' and no one seemed to know.  It took a couple of days but I found it.) Sometimes it happens because they are growing.  Sometimes it just happens.  For Xyla it usually happens right about the time she is going to hit a growth spurt.  It persists for a few days but we have always been able to resolve it naturally - that is without manual "help".

I know why she does what she does.  Mostly because I have been there myself.  You know when a poo is going to be solid.  TMI WARNING.  You know when the poo has the potential of ripping out of you quite literally.  When you feel one of those coming on, it is natural to not want to let it come out.  I get that.  That is why I will sometimes find my daughter hiding behind a door, or a towel, or a curtain, scrunching her face and crying a small desperate cry.  She is clenching her butt cheeks.  

She will walk around with her cheeks clenched.  It looks the same if you run into a coworker in hall who obviously waited too long to hit the head.  Stiff legged, waddle from side to side and sometimes stopping in her tracks because if she doesn't get it under control it will all be over but the crying.

When she was smaller I would put her on the toilet.  She was so small that her little feet would stick straight out and she wouldn't have a choice, your muscles don't have that kind of control.  She would go and I would be holding her for support both physical and emotional.  The poo would come and she would whimper.  We would flush it away and say "bye, bye, mean poo poo."  

There is no reasoning with her that everything will feel better if she'd just let it go.  I mean, when you have to go and can't you have this pressure working against you.  At best your back starts to hurt, at worst is positively aches.  When your back hurts it messes with your emotions and you just feel like a rotten mess.  At some point you hurt everywhere down to your toes.  But yet she is just sure that the pain of the poo is going to far outweigh anything she is going through.

That is what we have been experiencing since Friday.  Only, now she is too big for the potty trick so I have to let her sit there and she is really efficient at keeping it in.  So 15 minutes later we are back in the same place, doing the same thing.  We have been tied to the bathroom for about two days.  Whining, crying, whimpering.  We have gone through a few puuuwwups.

We had already been to the bathroom twice this morning in a span of 30 minutes when Xyla decided to go play in her room.  I hear a shriek.  I go in to investigate. 

Xyla was standing over her plastic rainbow colored slinky, which she obviously wanted very much to play with.   She was standing, stiff legged and trying to bend at the chest to reach the slinky.  Obviously this wasn't working.  She knows that if she bends over to reach the toy that there will be no more holding in the poo.  She also knows that she really wants that slinky.  

I told her if she wanted the slinky she would have to lean over and get it herself.  Honestly, I thought she would give it up and move on to the next toy.  I seriously underestimated how wonderful this toy really is.

I walked back into the living room.  After about 10 minutes and some barely audible whimpering my darling daughter comes running into the living room at light speed shouting, "I got it, I got it."  Consequently, I too, got it.  I peeked into her pull-up and the biggest, stiffest poo we have seen all week greeted me with a familiar smell.  

I told her, "see, now don't you feel so much better."  I changed her and we celebrated the victory with a dance to some swing music.  You can do that when you don't have to poo.

You know you are a mom when poop is like your favorite Christmas gift, ever.

Open gym. Free time is struggling to get out of the pit.

Really it was an experiment in learning about what my child might like to do in the near future.  I have been looking for something to put her in that will soak up some of the energy she drips with on a daily basis.  Most activity classes like tap, ballet ect are reserved for kids who are 3 and up (read - potty trained).  I found a place that has tumbling for kids walking to what ever age they want to continue participating.  The class itself will be on Tuesday nights but just to get a feel for the place we went to the Friday "Open Gym" night.  Note to the owners, if your website says open til 8pm let's do that, k?  I mean I did pay $7 to wear my kid out and honestly she could have used the extra half hour.  That is a discussion for another time.  

Right away Xyla found the kiddie toys section of the room.  rocking horse, tall thing to walk across (not a balance beam because wow for the little ones, that would be insane at that height).  She found the little trampoline.  Considering the way she insists on jumping on the couch I was rather hoping it wouldn't freak her out.  I was so unprepared for what happened.

It took me a few minutes to get her to realize the thing was a bouncy toy.  When she did, her eyes lit up.  It was like I had given her the keys to a Benz at 16.  While we were over there a girl about 8 or so in a bright orange leotard that said "gymnast" on it came over and announced that she 'loved' gymnastics.  I gather she must be part of the promotions team.  On the bigger kid side of the room there were about three other kids Xyla's age.  They were all happily bounding around all the equipment.  She decided to abandon the little trampoline to see what all the happy hubub was about.  She then began to realize there were several trampolines around the room.  Big ones.  The rules are only one kid per trampoline at a time.  One of the big trampolines is a runway that ends in a pit of large foam cubes designed to ease the fall should the children decide to hop right in.  She would watch many of the others run down the trampoline doing various tricks and then launch into the pit.  So she bounced down the run way got up to the edge of the pit and stopped.  There would be no hopping right in today.

On the far side of the pit from this trampoline is a small climbing wall, which appeals to Xyla's mommy very much.  To the left of the large pit is a small plastic slide that ends in - you guessed it- the pit.  I wish I could explain to you the love between this child and things that she can climb up to and scoot down just to do it all again.   It is her favorite thing next to chocolate milk and Gicky House (read - Mickey Mouse).  Sometimes she likes sliding more than Gicky.  She was trying to find a way to get onto the slide.  Ignoring two very important factors, one being the fact that the 'ladder' to the slide is obstructed by the pole that is over the pit for kids to skootch out onto and either just drop (which is what most were doing) or do a trick of some sort (which is what I-Love-Gymnastics was doing), into the pit of foam.

The pit is very friendly looking.  The ease with which the kids drop into it and bound out with the enthusiasm of a pointing dog on a hunt, is very deceptive.  As is the climbing wall, but we'll get to that in a minute.  I picked up Xyla and put her atop the slide, knowing full well that she didn't realize there was a bit of a drop at the end.  It makes sense though.  Putting the slide there, I mean.  How else are you going to get nervous kids to fall into a pit of something they have never seen before.  She skootches herself down the slide and is almost at the end and she stops in her tracks.  She is looking at the pit like it is filled with vipers.  Like it is going to swallow her alive as it seemed to be doing with the other kids.  I did what any mom would do.  I pushed her in.

Once she realized she was not being bitten or swallowed she grew a grin so big you could hear it in the next room.  She started navigating the foam and I fished her out and she said, "'gin, momma, 'gin."  So I put her up again.  Same thing.  Again. Rinse.  Lather.  Repeat.  

Next to the slide on the side away from the bar is a large mat.  The mat is about a foot and a half tall necessitating the fishing out of the small children to include lying down and  hoping you can reach their hand.  After a few trips down the slide, Xyla spotted the climbing wall.  I have tried to get her to actually climb the ones at the play ground and she hasn't shown much interest.  Surprising since she climbs everything else at home, which is significantly less secure than the wall. She goes over there and I follow.  I think, "the only way I am going to be able to help her is to jump into that stinking pit."  

Let me stop right here.  I get why they put the wall over the pit.  If anyone falls off (there are no top ropes) they will fall into a giant vat of fluffy foam instead of breaking themselves.  I don't know if these people are that in to climbing but since they encourage shoelessness and they have a climbing wall, I am guessing no.  The one thing they don't tell you that they really should is that there is no way to get out of the pit.  No ladder you can wade over to.  No hole or foot holds you can use.  Nothing.  I am sure they don't tell you this because you will only do it once.  I think they secretly enjoy watching people panic as they begin to realize there's no way out.  I was a little concerned at the fact that no one was willing to help the obviously misguided fat girl out of the pit either.  Finally someone rescued me.  He'd be my hero but he was married so we'll stick with rescuer.  I now know what it would feel like to be stuck in quick sand if I were a pig.

At any rate we spent much of the rest of the evening jumping on the trampoline.  Fun realized by the girl to the point where she squealed in such a joyous manner in such a high pitch that I was worried she was going to lose her voice.  Then one of the other girls did a backward summersault.  She had to try it.  Let's just say, we have some work to do on that one.  Can't get her feet over her head.  I don't think any of the websites or books really express when that particular skill is supposed to be mastered.  The other girl ran down the runway and launched herself into the pit.  Xyla ran down the runway and . . . stopped right at the edge with such perfect balance it seemed unreal.  I understand though.  I am not afraid of heights.  I am not even so much afraid of jumping from heights, it's when the height is attached to the lack of information about the drop and the clearance distance for the landing that paralyzes me with fear.  I know, that's really specific.  It helps me to understand where she is getting her ocd-like issues from.

She kicked me when they told us they were shutting the place down for the night and I picked her up to go gather our things.  It is the first time she was seriously defying me when she very clearly said, "no", after I told her we had to go home.  Doesn't matter, she is still small enough that mommy wins by sheer brute strength.  I am sure she will love tumbling.  I don't know if I will be able to get her to learn to wait her turn in line.  All in time.

On a completely unrelated issue, potty training is moving along swimmingly.  Stay tuned.