This post is about poop. So, if you don’t like stories about poop, if you’re easily grossed out or if you have a weak stomach, you may want to pass on this one.
Or, if you happen to be on a lunch break and have a sandwich in your hand, you may want to come back later.
Consider yourself warned.
Babies poop. Yep. They poop a lot. It’s messy. It’s smelly. It’s gross. And, sometimes it’s explosive. Now, this is not necessarily new information. For centuries new dads have been avoiding poop as much as possible. They miraculously disappear the moment a slight odor permeates the air. They have all of a sudden remembered that the tires need to be rotated on the car, or the lawn needs mowing or (GASP!) the laundry needs doing. Yes, I do believe many men would rather take on the dreaded task of laundry rather than change a poopy diaper. But this post isn’t actually about poop avoidance tactics, although I’m sure you could each share stories of your own. This post is about hubby’s participation in poopy diapers. And yes, I’ll repeat it for those of you who think you misread…. Hubby does, in fact, participate in poopy diapers. And that, my friends, is where the funny comes in.
Our little one has had some gastric issues. He’s on formula that causes constipation… and medicine that, well, let’s say, eases the constipation……. All this being said he can go 48+ hours without having a bowel movement. The poor little guy pushes and pushes for hours and never seems to get anything out. Now, this medication doesn’t just help get things moving, it helps set up scenarios that no parent ever wants to witness much less clean up. Yes, this medication, added to 48 hours of pushing, very often results in poopsplosions, the likes of which you can’t quite appreciate until you’re elbow deep in stinky, smelly poopies. (I warned ya, this post was pushing the poop story limits…………)
I am still on maternity leave. This simply means that I spend all day with our little one. I have had diaper explosions on my lap. I’ve cleaned poop off his legs, back and even out of his hair. I’ve tactically figured out how to remove poop covered garments from over the head with minimal poop transfer. I’ve unsuspectingly picked up our little guy without realizing the poop had escaped his clothes and I’ve had it all over my shirt. Suffice to say, that in 3 short months, I’ve been covered in and cleaned up more poop that I ever imagined possible. And, just like they tell you… somehow it’s ok, when it’s your own baby. Still completely gross…. But somehow ok..
So, now that I’ve set the stage let me tell my story.
One day, hubby is holding the baby and he hears the sound we like to celebrate. Yes, when you have a constipated baby… you DO actually celebrate each and every bowel movement. So, he promptly takes the baby to the changing table to get a new diaper.
I hear him in the other room … “Holy crap…” he declares “I’ve never seen so much poop!”. “Hon” he calls to me “this is an insane amount of poop”. So of course, I go into the room to see. Yes, this is another absurd behavior of parents (one that I couldn’t have quite imagined). You actually share poop stories and even show poop to each other. Ok, maybe this is just us……………….. Anyhow, when I look at the diaper, I simply say to hubby. “That’s nothing!” since I am now a poop expert, I know that this particular diaper filled with poop is not ‘an insane amount of poop’. I’ve seen an ‘insane amount of poop’ – those are the days I’m cleaning it out of the baby’s hair. So, I tell hubby “Honestly babe, that’s nothing.” And, as hubby continues to rant about the amount of clean-up he must do, I watch him as he pulls his three hundredth wipe from the container. “Uhm babe” I say to him “Are ya gonna leave any wipes for the next diaper??” He’s instantly defensive…. “how am I supposed to clean this all up without using this many wipes?” And then, I’m on my way into the other room because obviously we need another trash bag to hold an entire bin of dirty wipes…………..
As I get into the other room I yell to hubby… “Honestly, that wasn’t a lot of poop. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to go agai……..” and, as I say this, I hear hubby yelling….”OH MY GOD! He’s going AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!” And, I silently chuckle to myself as I realize that he now fully understands the definition of “an insane amount of poop”.
At this point I realize that hubby might need help… or maybe it’s just my evil side wanting to spectate as hubby tackles this mess. So, I go back into the room where he’s changing the baby. I watch him as he holds the baby’s legs way above his head so he doesn’t lay in the poop that’s now all over the changing table. He’s grabbing handfuls of wipes… he easily must be on wipe #478. He’s cleaning and shifting the baby and then……. I hear sucking. And, as I look at our cute little guy who seems to be contorted like a pretzel, as daddy is elbow deep in dirty wipes and more focused on clean-up than baby. I realize that dad has him bent so far in half that he’s now sucking on his own big toe! “Uhm hon, look at what you’re doing to him! You have him bent so far, his toe is in his mouth!”
And, surrounded by dirty wipes, smelly poop and one heck of a mess, you know what hubby’s response is??? “He’s been wanting to do that since the day he was born. After all this, the least I could do is to help him figure out a way to get his toe into his mouth!”
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