The Scoop on Poop

If you're the kind of person that has a problem with potty or bathroom humor, you may wish to skip this post in its entirety. I felt the need to address this issue in a post of its own due to the sheer volume of diapers parents of newborns have to deal with, as well as the challenges we face on the subject morning, noon, and night.

If you're still reading at this point, you're brave! LOL

A couple of nights ago, I had the pleasure of changing Gabe's diaper shortly after his bedtime feeding. He had felt the call of nature right there in the middle of his meal (something I am told he comes by honestly, at least according to my husband), and so after the feeding was complete and burps were (carefully) coaxed out, we headed to the changing table. What proceeded to unfold before me was no less than something right out of a horror movie!

There I was, talking to the little guy and trying to engage his attention, all the while skillfully unfastening the soiled diaper and proceeding to wipe him clean. I am a pro at this by now, you see. However, just because I thought he was done means absolutely nothing.

He gave me a big grin, and I responded in kind...only I learned moments later that wasn't one of his "Hi, Mommy! I'm glad to see you!" grins. No. This was one of those "I'm straining, and here it comes!" grins.

Oh yes.

The next thing I knew, we had projectile poop. This wasn't diarrhea (thank God), but it found a way of getting everywhere and on everything. And those blasted sticky strips on the old diaper were of no help either, sticking to the new diaper as I was trying to make the save, and schmeering poop on the changing pad and wipe box. Ugh! Meanwhile I had a wash cloth covering his privates in an attempt to keep from getting a golden shower, as the cold air tends to trigger that function regardless of whether or not there is adequate coverage.

A second clean diaper in hand, I went to change him again, only this time I heard a rumble in his tummy, and suddenly we had another--albeit smaller--erruption of the same. Dammit! In all, it took nearly 10 minutes to change his diaper, what with wiping, then more pooping, then wiping again.

The grin that followed was one of pleasure, as I'm sure--young as he is--he understood exactly what he was doing. It had to be planned...HAD to be planned! And he was happy.

So when we finally got things cleaned up, we were able to salvage the situation with about 8 times as many wipes as I would normally use. We finally had a clean bum, a clean changing table (that's why God created the Lysol wipe), and a happy tummy. And all was right again with the world.

I'm sure there are parents out there who can relate to this kind of fiasco. That being said, potty training truly is a blessing in disguise, and I don't know how some parents cope with using cloth diapers. That just wouldn't work for me.

In the mean time, I will continue to cause Pampers to make a considerable amount of money off of me, but I've resigned to the notion that this is just how its meant to be.