Poop.

Yes, poop. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that becoming a mother meant that such an enormous amount of my time would be spent on poop. How much there is, how much there isn't, what it smells like, what it looks like, how often it appears, and my favorite - when it doesn't. Every mom I've talked to has a story about the time her child stopped pooping, and What Happened Next. These tales generally culminate in the Biggest Blowout Ever (my good friend's daughter had poop coming out of her sleeves!), but I managed to produce a kid who screams bloody murder if he misses one poop - thereby saving me from the grand finale.

Lucky, lucky me.