The Day I Let My Son Play With His Poo

On October 25, 2012 our family of 5 moved into the home of my open-armed in laws. I remember the date because I forced myself to choose a deadline knowing my powers of procrastination would have otherwise won.  We were in a tough position in life and made a calculated move. Aaron (my husband) was going on a year of unsuccessful job hunting, we were running out of time, out of money, and figured that when he found work it would likely require a move anyway! Might as well put the house on the market without the pressure to accept the first bid. It. Was. Stressful. I cried. A lot. I am not a crier. 

But I was more concerned about my children and their adjustment.

The funny thing about children is their combination of resiliency and an inability to articulate emotion. I was most concerned with the almost 6year old who would have to switch schools. She seemed to ease into the change. It was the 3-year-old's sudden behavior changes that caught us by surprise. I am sure the screaming, waking, poo playing, pee accidents were just an outward expression of his inner turmoil and inability to adjust. I mean, he had a lot on his plate! At one point his main caretaker (me) was working 40+ hours a week outside the home (from 0) and while most of those were at night, my napping, his shift in caretakers, my depression, his daddy's stress and the million of other factors must have been weighing on his poor little heart. 

So it was with this platform that Joel started to play with his poop. I know kids do this sometimes but if he had prior to the move, it was maybe once. Poo play is gross of course and completely socially unacceptable. I felt pressure from inward and outward to nip the behavior in the butt. (Hahahaha) 

Now, if you know Joel, you will know that the boy does what he wants. He has this amazing ability to not be affected by most consequences I can conjure up. He is his own person and will determine his own outcome. (We should begin saving now for my mental health hospitalizations to come when he hits puberty.) If he wanted to play his poo, he was going to.

And that is when I got the idea. I would let him. It went something like this: 

"Joel, you can play with your poo whenever you want to."

Disbelief.

"You just need to tell me you want to and I will go get you one of these gloves to wear so the germs don't get on your hands."

Now I know most of you are still cringing or gagging but People, it worked. The boy asked a total of 3 times during the next few weeks. He put on the glove, did whatever he did to gather his poo (I did to stay to watch), played with it and called me to help him dispose of the latex miracle afterward. That was it. He was done. 

Allowing him to play with the poo seemed to suck the power from the behavior and he moved on. It was wonderful. I think this is called removing the power struggle or maybe working with the resistance. Whatever it is, it was brilliant and for the life of me I can't seem to recreate the situation again in other applications! Ahhhhhhhh