poop redux

Dear Sava,

Your mother canceled the babysitter for today so when she left for work at 3, I had to cancel my work meetings and return home. You woke up at 4 we watched Shrek together until you lost interest.

I decided to try and give you a really good day because you've done thrown a lot of minor tantrums in the last week as we approach your second birthday (13 days away!), so I took us out for ice cream. You were such a good girl. You kept your napkin on, you ate with your spoon, and when it was over you didn't cry or scream, you just pointed out some trucks to me, noticed a bird ("Bird flying!") and got back into the car.

Next we went to the store to buy you shirts, socks and new shoes with princesses on the sides and lights inside that light up when you run. You love the shoes, but in the checkout line on the way out of the store, you began grabbing everything you wanted or shouted the names of things you could identify that you wanted. This was short lived though and soon we were back in the car headed to the play park.

"Yaaaaaaayyyy" you shouted when you saw that we were at the play park. You were so happy to be there. You jumped on the colored spots that make sound, you went on the swings, you slid down the slides and you were so cute in your new shoes that the adults were pointing to you and smiling.

At home we read a book, changed you into your pajamas and put you into your crib with a bottle of milk. You had all of your babies in there with you, and a while later, when I noticed you were still awake and checked on you, I noticed you had lined them up between the wall and your crib rail. This is a little game you created when you play alone.

But by 9:15 you were still awake! I heard you cry my name one time, but didn't go into the bedroom for a few minutes ... until I heard you cry "Poop. Poop, Daddy. Poop."

When I walked in the room I couldn't believe my eyes. You were covered in poop and you were holding up your poop-smeared hands. You had rubbed poop into the railings of your crib, smeared it across the faces of all your dolls, on the backs of teddy bears, made hand prints on the walls, and what you could not immediately use, you hurled across the room so that the floors were littered with pieces of poop.

Remembering the books, I put you into an ice cold shower and held you in there (a little too aggressively, I'm sorry to say) while you screamed bloody murder, but all the while kept trying to wash you hands and body. It was a horrible, horrible moment. When that was over, I lay you on our bed and put a new diaper on you as I went in to clean your room.

How do you begin with such a mess? It was everywhere. I packed up all of your blankets, sheets, dolls and clothing into a big bag and then began with the railings and walls. Your mother came home about 45 minutes later and took over for me. When we checked on you in our room, you were so petrified that you had not moved from your spot.

Finally it was finished. I returned to the bedroom to find you in the same position as before. You looked worried. You were worried. I dressed you in pajamas and sat you down on the bed.

"Sava, can you tell me what we can play with in your room?"
"..."
"Can we play with dolls?"
"Yes."
"Yes, we can play with dolls. And can we play with books?"
"Yes. Books."
"And can we play with toys and teddy bears?"
"Yes."
"Sava, can you tell me what we CAN'T play with in your room or in the house?"
Long pause.
"Poop."
"Yes, we do not play with poop. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Long pause.
"Sorry, Daddy."
"I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for getting angry with you, Sava."

Then you gave me a big hug and a kiss.

Cute, but the next morning it was tantrum after tantrum leading to your breaking a glass on the front porch. Ah, two.

And your not even two yet!