Too much information

Today, Maggie was on the potty. I heard her grunting and straining, so I called in to her and told her to just relax and stop straining or she might hurt herself. (I always heard that straining gives hemorrhoids, though I don't know firsthand if that's actually true ...) The next thing I knew, she was giving me a play by play: "It's stuck ... grunt ... I'm pushing it out ... grunt ... now I'm stopping ... no, I think more needs to come out ... I'm just going to sit here and let it come out ... Mommy, more poo-poo is in my tooshie!" This narrative went on for quite some time, but you get the picture.

When she got to the "I think more needs to come out," I thought to myself, "I really didn't need to know that." And now that I sit here typing it, it occurs to me that maybe you didn't need to know that either. ;-) So I'll just close now and hope I haven't grossed you out too much. I guess throughout her life, I'd rather Maggie tell me more than I'm comfortable hearing rather than keeping things from me. For now, that's my silver lining in this story -- the fact that my daughter is happy to tell me anything and everything. Even when I don't really want to hear it.