Having a child who is "technically" potty trained, but hasn't passed "Advanced Wiping Skills," I commonly come across dubious and suspicious messes that require clean up and I simply don't know--nor will take the taste test to find out for sure--if I'm cleaning up poop or pudding.
The skidder on the bathroom rug had a high probability of being poop. That droplet in the kitchen? That better be chocolate. The smudge on the wall... between the bathroom and the kitchen? Ummm... toss up.
I live in doubt for now because I insist that he try wiping himself first before he calls for my help. (Do mother's of grown children come to miss the call: "ALL DONE! WIPE ME!"?) I push the issue more for the mother's of his friends than for me. I don't want them to have to wipe his butt, say if he's there for a playdate and mother nature calls. It is one thing to have to wipe your own child's butt, but requires a higher level of humanity to happily wipe another child's bottom.
That and he's four. By five--by Kindergarten--Advance Butt Wiping skills absolutely must be mastered. He won't get there unless he tries.
What in the world, you ask yourself, does any of that have to do with finding fitness in the chaos of motherhood?
Are you still doing pushups on your knees? Time to pop your knees up. Do one full push up.
Can you do a pull up without assistance? Get rid of the props. See what happens on your own.
Wanting to go for a run but walking feels so safe? Pick up the pace. See how long you can run.
Whatever physical test you aspire to accomplish, how will you ever get there if you don't try?
I promise, the stakes are much lower than going off to Kindergarten without the ability to wipe your own butt.