Folks, today’s post might be a little uncomfortable for some of you out there. I figure I’d rather warn you in advance, rather than just dive in and have you find out part of the way through what I’m talking about. Y’know, so that way, you can decide to skip past and not read. Or, if you choose to, you can go right ahead. But didn’t say I didn’t warn you.
See, today, we’re delving into a little discussion about #2. The messiest of the messy.
Yes today’s post is about poop.
See, there comes a moment that every parent deals with. That moment? When your adorable offspring has filled diaper after diaper all day long, but they’ve only been wet. Varying amounts of wetness, some of which make the diaper feel like it weighs almost as much as your child, but wetness nonetheless (and trust me, if you’ve got a baby as big as Nugget is, those really wet diapers are HEAVY). So, as a parent (or, really, anyone responsible for changing the diaper of a baby), you start dreading the next diaper change. You know that the baby has to make a mess eventually, and it becomes a bit of a game of chicken over who will actually make the change. Oddly enough in our house, when this was happening on a semi-regular basis, Nugget seemed to know when HawtWife was going to do the change, because I would change wet after wet after wet, and HawtWife would change one diaper over the course of the day, and it was invariably the messy one. In fact, we used to joke that Nugget would only poop when Mommy was home, and that it was a subtle way of indicating which parent was her favorite, but, well, since things have somewhat evened out (this is helped by my being the sole caregiver on weekdays now), we know that she’s just pooping when she wants. It’s a literal crap shoot with each changing, but, there is one thing that we thought we’d gotten past.
For a good portion of Nugget’s life, we were using cloth diapers, thanks to an amazing diaper service. These cloth diapers never quite fit her booty, but we can blame that on genetics, since, looking at her parents, there was no way she’d avoid getting a sizable bottom. So there would be those oh-so-fun moments when the diaper wouldn’t quite catch everything, and there would be a round of laundry and rinsing and disinfecting and contemplating of burning our hands off, followed by trying REALLY HARD to get the next cloth diaper to fit snugly, so that there could be no overflow. When Nugget was in disposable diapers, this didn’t happen all that often, because they seemed to tuck together better. In fact, if there would be any sort of explosion, it was generally a sign that we needed to move our baby up to the next size.
Since my transition to being at home, we’ve decided that we’re also transitioning away from the cloth diapers. It helps that our city pretty much incinerates the trash, so we don’t feel as bad about environmental impact. Plus, with the disposables, we were starting to get confident that the days of the explosions were past us (also, not to be too graphic, but with her eating more solids, the consistency of her poops has really changed). But, well, clearly, you should never let your guard down around a child.
This morning, after waking, Nugget got her diaper changed (as is standard), and she had a normal, solid-food poo sitting there. It was a little messy to clean up, but, hey, if you didn’t want a mess, you shouldn’t have had a baby (or a dog, or BBQ ribs, or anything else that finds a way to make messes larger than it is). So I got everything cleaned up, and we started going about our day, having good times playing with her toys, giving her breakfast, and trying to get her to work on the whole crawling/standing/walking thing. And then she made a concentration face.
Parents recognize this face. It’s a sign that their child is working hard on getting something out. Now, with Nugget, it isn’t ALWAYS an indication that she’s dropping a deuce, as it could just be that she’s got so much pee to get out that she needs to focus on it. That wasn’t the case this morning, as the face was a DEFINITE indication that she was filling her diaper with a terrible present. So, dutifully, I wait for her to stop making the concentration face (I’d like to think I learned that particular lesson in my very first diaper change), and get her off to be changed. Where I am greeted with a definite poosplosion. The diaper couldn’t contain it. Somehow, she kept it off of her pants, but that means that her shirt was a goner. It never stood a chance. The cover on her changing pad fared about as well. Somehow, when stripping the shirt off of her, I kept her head clean, but her back, well, that had to get wiped down. And then, once she was changed, yes, there was the prerequisite round of laundry and rinsing and disinfecting and contemplating the burning off of my hands.
I avoided following through with that last step, though. I figured that soap would do the trick, and I don’t know if I’d be as good at tickling Nugget if I’d turned my fingers into charcoal briquettes.