Daddee Yah!

A working Daddee learning to cope in a big big world

Can you guess what Caitlin is making here?

Play Doh!

This title certainly got you clicking :)

Everyone has their styles. Some hold their groins scurrying and yelling “I gotta go I GOTTA GO” while others do so subtly, yet while others (still) don’t tell you AT ALL that they have done it.

As far as a number 1 goes, Caleb won’t tell you. At all. Until you carry him and feel the wet diaper on your forearm, or when you discover the puddle of pee on the floor, while he is still running around being his 2year old self discovering and/or copying what his older sister does.

For his number 2’s however, is something I haven’t seen “done” before.

I understand everyone needs their privacy, whether it’s cos the poop is gonna stink, or that it’s simply because it’s the action of pooping. But for a 2 year old, what’s “privacy”? So it is with a lot of laughter of adorableness when we hear about, and then get to see, how my boy does it.

In private.

When you kinda suddenly discover him missing, you start to wonder whether he’s okay- but more often than not it’s because he has run to some corner of the room/house; preferably behind something, and pushing. It doesn’t matter if the pusher is 2 or 20 years old, I believe all humans push the same way. It becomes a lot more “funny” when it’s on a 2 year old boy. The same slight-squirm, the same red-face. Only standing up, hiding in some corner.

When we discover him “midway” he is somewhat apprehensive, don’t-come-any-closer kinda gesture. Dunno why. Perhaps at (only?) 2 he is starting to feel shame and embarrassment already. This idea is emphasised when I tease him (yes this Daddee teases his kids)- at any “usual” moment I’d look at him and say “Ngg ngg? Ngg ngg??” (the local baby talk for pooping; I think you can imagine how that term came about!) where he’d quite vehemently declare “Mai! MAI!” (which till today we are wondering whether he is trying to speak Hokkien dialect when most of what he hears is Cantonese where “no” is “moi”, not the Hokkien “mai”) as if the act of it is shameful.

Not that we make fun of him, maybe he is starting to develop his own self awareness and image (self respect?)

For now, I will still laugh at him. It’s okay if he develops a complex surrounding pooping. Having a complex surrounding pooping is okay compared to “performance anxiety” surrounding peeing, at the men’s room urinal.


Yup. The poor kid has to endure the hardness of her stools that she bursts into tears at the pain of it.

And she pushes hard too. To the extent that today, Grandma told me that there was a spot of blood on her pants.

The poor kid does eat her greens, and a great variety of them too, by the way. I also believe she drinks enough water too, and I encourage her to when I am with her. But yet she still has hard ones. Over the weekend I have had the “privilege” of sitting by her to chat with her while she had to go (I usually do this while waiting to subsequently wash her up). Three sessions / days in a row she was in loud tears as a result of the pain during pushing / passing.

Grandma is going to start buying again some prunes for her to eat. I have also suggested that she get some papaya too- the former being super fibrous, the latter being something of a laxative (some family members of mine have had to experience this after enjoying too much of it!)

What do you feed your kids to ease this inhibition? I don’t want to start relying on anything artificial like medication or suppositories. Rather I prefer something totally natural that could even become part of her usual diet.

Caitlin on the dunny having a chat with Daddee. I will spare her some dignity in future, promise!

When this happened; when it dawned on me the whole rationale and intention behind the lie, I honestly did not know how to react, because I did not know which stand to take.

Last night, as usual, I headed over to Grandma’s after work, for dinner and the trip home with the kids to call it a night. While I was there, Grandma said Caitlin hadn’t pooped yet, again. We were talking about it and her diet during the day and the day before, and how else to ease the problem for her. Caitlin, in her time with her grand parents, has actually picked up some Cantonese being spoken and also from the Chinese serials on tv, that she can actually understand most of what is being discussed between the adults; only that she may not be able to speak it, yet. (We exclusively speak to her in English, though I’ve started practising Mandarin with her from her classes).

Sometime after dinner then, Caitlin, being the monkey that she is (born under the same animal year too) was being cheeky and was rude to Daddee. She wanted to be carried, I refused and she grunted / growled at me pulling her lips back. For the rest of that time / the night, I declared to her that I wasn’t going to speak to her at all and wasn’t going to friend her because I was both sad and angry at her, and also that there was not going to be any tv or Sesame Street podcast watching for the night, as punishment.

It would have been over an hour between that and the time we got home. Almost time for bed and she says to me she needed to poop. Knowing that this was more important, I carried-put her on her toddler-toilet-seat on the dunny, and kinda forgave her and sat by the door keeping her company; chatting and encouraging / supporting her knowing that it was likely going to be painful pushing out her hard stools.

In all, we sat there for over 45minutes, passing her usual bedtime. In that time, she says to me that there was a total of 3 plops; our reference to poop-progress. Knowing that usually the first plop would be the hardest, the rest of the “session” should be smooth sailing, pun intended.

In between there were the somewhat expected sobs of pain, and she used the toilet tissues to wipe her tears, dumping them into the toilet.

Since there was already 3 plops, I was getting impatient in that it was taking too long and she really already needed to be asleep. I asked her to start pushing, despite her refusals.

Then she tells me she is done. I can’t remember the exact conversation but when I already had some drops of soap ready to wash her bits, she tells me that she didn’t poop at all in all that time.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Initially I didn’t realise that she was lying. I made her repeat herself and what she did to confirm. I couldn’t check the toilet ‘cos there was dumped tissue floating on the surface. I specifically asked if any of the 3 plops ever occurred. She shook her head.

After washing her up, I took her out of the toilet and sat down face to face with her. I reminded her of the evening’s events, that she was rude to me, I was angry at her, but that I had forgiven her; and then she downright lied to me within minutes of that.

I smacked her on the ass. Twice. She knows we don’t stand for lying, and she should be reminded of it.

In choosing my words carefully so that there wasn’t going to be a repeat, I got her to recap what had transpired and to explain her actions.

She tells me that she lied because she didn’t actually have any (ready at the time) poop. Somewhere in there, it dawned on me that she had simply wanted to please me.

In all the adult conversations she has learned that we were concerned about her bowel movements. In the time leading to the lie, I was mad at her. This, apparently, was an attention seeking move, to “wag the dog”, to either possibly to get me to friend her again, AND / OR that I would be relieved to know she was free of her alimentary knots.

In a twisted way, she had my interest at heart.

It bugged me the whole night what had happened. I replayed and weighed the whole incident, her’s and my thought process, rationale, approach. Yes it is wrong to lie. But she lied not so much for her own interest because I said I forgave her after we both sat down to chat (her on the dunny and me on the floor just outside)- she said she needed to poop when I was still mad at her and hadn’t forgiven her yet. She knows I could very well leave her there and be on about my usual evening business at home.

It also occured to me that she may have confused her own body signals. It was knocking at the door, but not quite ready to come out yet; and she thought it was. But since it wasn’t ready after all, to please me she said there were 3 plops already, to follow through with the whole act of now-that-Daddee’s-put-me-on-the-toilet-I-had-better.

Something in me made me think I wrongly smacked her; after all she did cry her usual pain-in-the-ass-cos-of-hard-stools cry. A voice was also telling me that this whole thing is warped, twisted, about how she approached and dealt with and followed through with the whole incident, the way she thinks, the way she felt she had to follow though a possible mistake (knock-knock but no one’s there mistake) by covering up with lies.

That she woke up about 30 minutes later with real poop didn’t make my state of mind any easier. I seem to be as confused as she might have been last night…

Seems like a season for sequels. Nope, I haven’t watched The Dark Knight yet….. I have watched Hellboy 2 though…

Anyway, there’s been a build up of activities that have accumulated to a juncture at which there’s been a bottleneck, inhibiting the easy flow of movements, effectively creating a plug that is causing a backlog of new activities waiting to be cleared.

Yes, it took me a good while to write that simple passage of nonsense.

On weekends, we make it a point to sleep over at my parents’, since it is the only time everyone gets to see each other.

On Saturday, we took it easy. Hot Mummee slept in, but Caitlin was up “early” as usual (for a Saturday, by our standards). So Daddee has to keep her company and occupied. My mum wanted to go buy some fresh flowers at the wet market. So the 3 of us went. Then we came home, Caitlin had her lunch. I don’t recall if she had her morning milkies or not… Before her afternoon nap Hot Mummee and I sat with her to go through some of the new words she learned from school. Evening came, and only Caitlin and I, along with my parents and the 2 brothers and respective families, went over to Dr Pixie’s for dinner. Hot Mummee and Caleb didn’t go ‘cos the little man is only just coming out of (an)other fever and cold.

There wasn’t anything unusual about it. There were fish, vege, prawns, rice, and lots of fruits. Caitlin avoided the spicy stuff, but did get stuck into the fruits, especially the papaya and the rare treat of kiwi fruit.

We had a late night. Mainly ‘cos Caleb wasn’t there, allowing myself and Caitlin to remain and play / chat / explore the house. I reckon we got home around midnight. I think I did make her some milkies, but not the usual amount.

Sunday came and she only woke close to midday. Hours later, we packed up, went home to the condo, and the kids had their afternoon nap. No surprises- Caitlin wasn’t able to sleep quickly when night came. She probably only fell asleep close to midnight.

Before that, while washing up after brushing her teeth, I asked if she’d been. She hadn’t, for that day; and I can’t remember if I washed her up on Friday or Saturday night once, after her going.

Monday came, and it was going to be an interesting one.

Since she didn’t sleep early the night before, she was all of Miss Grumpy. Still, I managed to get her to school on time and outta-sight-outta-mind for me and on my way to work.

Like breaking news feeds of a major event, I get bits and pieces of info that I had to peace together: Sitting on the toilet for 3 hours, refusing to get off, only Grandma’s threats worked, insisting on wearing her brother’s diapers for just-in-case, trip to the nearest Dr, anema, but not satisfied, no afternoon nap. Somewhere in there was Hot Mummee’s interrogation on what happened / was served at Dr Pixie’s.

Poor kid is already lacking sleep, and is so constipated that she had to endure the up-the-ass too. I think it was only a squirty but nonetheless….

I think the only thing we’d done differently since part 1 was that Caitlin has finished her tub of prunes which Grandma had bought, and had effectively stopped eating it, or anything just as fibrous.

So I went to (finally) get a bottle of Duphalac, asking Grandma to administer today after Caitlin returns from school, 10mL, for 3 days in a row. Dr Pixie actually suggested to administer in the mornings, but since she says it will “work within 4 hours”, I also do not want any untoward mishaps to befall her during her school hours in the morning.

Hopefully when I get home later, I will be greeted with a wide smile I-am-so-finally-relieved fully rested 3-going-on-4-year old happy-as-I-am child, again.

Update: I was :)

As planned, Caitlin only consumed the Duphalac after school. Apparently she had to go only in some 50min later, just after lunch, with full of greens. She got some soft plop-plops! And later, after I had reached home and having dinner, she had to go again. I don’t know which “session” the duphalac worked on, but now the plumbing is at least cleared!

Grandma and I have decided not to put her on it again tomorrow, despite Dr Pixie’s instructions of 3 days in a row. If it were just one visit then maybe. But since Caitlin has had to go twice already today I think we will refrain from further use / dosage. I did also ask Caitlin if she had any stomach discomfort. She claims she didn’t. I hope it’s the truth and not that she is being brave.