PLUCK

Megan Cottrell Liz Joynt Sandberg
Megan Cottrell Liz Joynt Sandberg

Welcome to Pluck. We think you’ve got what it takes.
We're Liz and Megan, best-friends to each other and mothers to Ida, age 2, and Teddy, 6 months, respectively. We're all about raising our kids without losing ourselves, with wine as a totally acceptable coping strategy. Nothing Fancy. Sometimes Funny. Always straight-up and open-minded dispatches from the motherland.

The poop look

Megan Cottrell
Friday, February 08, 2013

I remember hanging out with Liz and Ida when Ida was probably around 9 months old. She was sitting on a blanket on the floor, playing with some toys when she stopped and tilted her head to the side.

She looked as if she was considering something, like perhaps it had just occurred to her to question the meaning of existence. She squinted her eyes a little bit.

"Are you pooping?" Liz asked her.

Liz explained that she got a certain look on her face while she pooped. This is the kind of knowledge only a mother has about her child - the kind of intimate information no one else even wants, but you know instinctively.

Yesterday, Teddy was standing in my room when he got that far off, glassy look in his eyes. We practice elimination communication, so he was going diaper free.

The trouble with intimate knowledge is that sometimes, it's such an odd thing to know that you think you couldn't possibly be right. Or at least I do, sometimes. I know that look. I've taken a person with that look on his face to the potty and seen what comes of it.

But I doubted myself. Probably just crazy, I thought.

And then there was a turd on my floor.

The moral of his story: never doubt the poop look. Or your maternal instincts.

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