Ok the title is kind of a giveaway to what this post is about. Apologies if you are repulsed but one thing no one ever mentioned to me when I was pregnant was poo. In-fact, if you are expecting your first, click away now while you have the chance. Live in ignorant bliss like I did.

"Oh you will feel overwhelming love from the beginning" 

"It is the best thing you will ever do." 

 "Take in every moment, it all goes so quickly." 

 These are all things I was told awaiting the arrival of my gorgeous first boy. 

 Nobody.  Not one. Said:

"You will be obsessed with their bowel movements for at least the next 5 years." 

You see it starts pretty much immediately from birth. Midwives asking about the content of their nappies. What is the consistently? Is it like mustard? 

I went off hot dogs for a while. 

No one mentioned that such a small cute thing can erupt like a volcano. You can bet your bottom dollar it will be at the most convenient time. Dress them in white, dress yourself in white, in a cafe, round your OCD friends house. These are all indicating factors that a poo explosion is imminent.  

It doesn't get better at the other end of the scale. Big man had a bout of constipation on the one day that I was going out for the evening. He was only about 6 months old. I left my husband in charge. He was concerned and called out of hours. I came back to a MASSIVE bullet shaped carving of butter that he had fashioned if he felt an emergency evacuation was required. He was lucky I didn't stuff it up his backside when I saw the size of it. Big man was lucky that he produced the goods without any interference from his helpful Father. 

Then there's bath time. Where has that raisin come from I wondered as Middle Man went to grab it. Soon terror flooded my face as he was yanked from the bath and I was fishing for his goods. He sat crying as he was cold, wet and really wanted that raisin. 

As they get bigger you are then lulled into a false sense of security. 

Until potty training. 

There is nothing more humiliating to a parent then being handed you child's soiled Thomas the tank pants in a nappy sack. Soon it becomes a good idea to buy extremely cheap pants that can be thrown away after you have had to do the walk of shame to the nursery car park.

Then comes a time when they are potty trained. 

Hooray! Let's go on a long walk a good 30 minutes from any toilet with absolutely nothing to carry with us. 

"Ummmm I need a poo. It's starting to come out...."

I will leave the panic and mayhem that ensued to your imagination.

I am hoping now that the boys are getting bigger, that will be end of the poo years. Apart from the odd log that no one admits to and refuses to flush that is.

What were you never told about when you were expecting a baby?