I didn't get a bidet until after having a child. I should've done it years ago.

• It has changed my life after having a child.

• My way of showing love is to change my diaper and my way of loving myself is to use the bidet.

• I talk to people about my butt and encourage them to use a bidet.

I want to let you know about my bidet.

The seat is warm. When I'm done, I can choose how I want to wake me up, for when I'm taking a poop after my daughter wakes up at 5 a.m., or warm, or hotter still. The angle and stream width were chosen by me. The video-game effect is due to the fact that I hold the remote in my hand and press the buttons.

I am an ardent fan of bidets. I didn't pay much attention to my butt before I had a child. I want people to try it out when they come to visit. I want to talk about my butthole. I think I have a secret. I now see a mundane bathroom trip as beautiful. It's lovely.

As a mom, poop is always in my life

When I'm in the bathroom on the toilet with my toddler, the bidet can keep working. She drapes her body across my knees while I sit on the toilet and I wonder what it would be like to love someone so much that you want to hug them. Even though I've been here the whole time, my daughter on the other side of my body said, "Hello, mom," as if she missed me.

I know what it's like to love someone. When my daughter was small, everyone warned me about diaper spills, poop everywhere, endless laundry from baby poop, and my whole house smelling like baby poop. The people cried over the baby's poop. I was aware of it. I wanted to change her diaper.

The way her poop looked told me that she was okay. When she had an allergy, I was willing to look for blood in her stool. My face is next to it. I liked the way I could wipe her clean, tie everything up and throw it away.

When she was small, every cry was a desperate request from a person I loved but could not speak. I wanted to know the right thing to do. The entire day was reduced to a trash can filled with diapers.

Changing a diaper was seen as a love letter. My daughter's life was dependent on it. I like changing a diaper in a dry diaper because I know what to do. Being gentle was practiced. It was well cared for. It was affection. The soles of my daughter's feet were still tender as I kissed them.

The bidet is me loving myself

Once I'm washed, I can hit the dry button and the Caribbean breeze fan of air will blow off my butt. I closed my eyes for a short time.

I don't know how to describe the joy of having children. Writing about poop is easier. Many people wanted to know how hard it was to have a child. I might not be able to do it sometimes. There is a diaper that needs to be changed. I can get rid of it. I can help her feel better.

My daughter burst into the bathroom when I was on the toilet waiting to be dried because she couldn't wait another second to see me. My arms are going all the way around her as I pull her up onto my lap. She is resting on my shoulder. The cycle is done. Both of us are feeling better.

You can read the original article.