My very first post! And there's poop involved.

Parenting is hard. Not just in general. Today. Every day, really. For me.
 My 3.5 year old is at a crossroads in her life, and it hasn't been easy. Since she was born, I've been waiting for her to be more independent. As parents, that's what we want, right? We want our offspring to be able to, "do it themselves." We want to be able to drink that coffee while it's still hot, or maybe actually finish an article in the paper, without having to pause and replenish juice, or goldfish crackers, or whatever the hell it is they're yelling in our ears about. 
 Hannah? She's there. And I'm not ready.
 She wants to wipe her own butt.
I know what those of you without children, or maybe only one young child are thinking. "Is this chick crazy?? Why the eff wouldn't she want her kid to wipe her own ass??" I remember when Nicolas (now 8) was little. I thought the same way. I dreamt of the day when he didn't announce to me that he was, "taking the Browns to the Superbowl." (Yes, he really would say that. In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have taught him the phrase to begin with. But we're not here to point fingers.) I couldn't wait to not have to pause whatever I was doing, and wipe his bottom. I PRAYED FOR PRESCHOOLER INDEPENDENCE.
 And I got it. Do you know what came with that independence?
 Clogged toilets from too much paper.
 Little logs left for my viewing displeasure, because, more times than not, he didn't flush.
 Empty TP rolls when I wasn't expecting it.
 Dirty little pairs of Underoos. There's nothing worse than unthinkingly just grabbing up some dirty skivvies, and realizing you just got a palm full of preschooler poop. Well, there's actually way worse stuff, like war, famine, genocide, and some other big ones, but when you're palming poop, it's pretty much an instant day killer.
 Endless arguments. "Did you wipe?"
"YES, MOM."
"Let me check and be sure."
"MOOOMMMMMM. NOOOOO. I"M NOT A BABYYYYYYY!!!"
 "Do you promise you wiped? Really, really well?"
 "Yes!! Now, PLEASE stop talking about it Mom!!"
And it never failed, an hour later, little preschool fingers were itching a little preschool bottom. Digging those little "unner-wears" (as he used to call them) RIGHT into that poop he DIDN'T wipe. Then, we had to go into the bathroom, re-wipe, re-wash hands, and change unner-wears. It was a never-ending cycle. So.Much.Laundry.
 I'm not ready to go through it with Hannah. Letting me do the dirty work saves so much time in the long run, but she doesn't hear that. She's "HANNAH THE BIG GIRL" (She tells us all the time).
 But, I've learned.
 I have Daddy collect all the dirty laundry at the end of the day.
 Bring on the preschooler independence.