Potty Talk

Most parents (or child-care involved people) will know about the potty talk phase. It’s when kids are obsessed with bodily functions. It usually subsides after about a year of telling them to knock it off but it has only gotten worse.

Not my kids. Me.

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For a while I appeared to be obsessed with writing about my vagina, so much that my neighbor – while introducing me to someone at a party – said, “This is Vivienne, she’s a blogger. She writes about her vagina, it’s hilarious.”


I don’t know who to attribute that trend to but I know beyond a doubt who is responsible for my current obsession with poop.

PoopMaybe it’s because when I text her “I just started my day right if you know what I mean,” and she knows I don’t mean sex.

Maybe it’s how she doesn’t miss a beat and just runs with it like it was on her mind, too. All I know is that it is wonderful to be loved for who you are.


I was awash in shit this morning, chicken shit that is. Dried chicken shit.



It was my week to take care of the girls in the coop co-op and since I’ve been so lame about cleaning up lately, I thought I’d do an extra good job and rake out the run. In the sun. And 90 degree weather. A shower has never felt better.

I was all hot and sweaty from walking the animals and hitting the gym. I reactivated my membership now that summer travel is mostly over, I like it there. I’ve started walking to the gym so I can score more steps throughout the day.

My dad and I were talking about how his father walked almost everywhere, probably because cars weren’t really a thing when he was a kid and then the depression, etc., etc. I love walking, especially when I have my crew.

I am so excited have a walking dog again. It will take a while for him to get up to speed but it’s pretty lame how Scheissehund puts on the brakes after a block or two.

The kids and I prepped for puppyhood by visiting a friend who just got a Great Dane Puppy. Her three month-old weighs now what I expect my pup to weigh when he’s full grown.

I told them they better get with the puppy frenching program because if you really love your puppy, you will let him put his tongue in your mouth.

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Yeah, I fell in love with her Dane. She’s doing such a great job training the little girl and I know she will grow up to be a wonderful dog but no, I don’t want another Dane. Not yet. I’m excited for my mini Golden.

The boys both vigorously oppose the name Papa. “It’s a human name! It’s weird!”

Well duh, that’s why I like it. Back to the drawing board.

Oh, and I had this funny convo with Stitch and Mancakes.


Ever since that one time he messaged us about his pumped up chest, Stitch and I have been waiting with bated breath for some decent chest selfies. We were kind of bored so we decided to taunt him with some completely inappropriate and dehumanizing demands. Still no boobies pictures. Sad.


One thought on “Potty Talk

  1. I was thinking of you today. There were two great Danes, mom and dad on the beach. The owners said the puppies were 1 week old! How I would have loved to have seen them. Puppy breath!

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