Sunday, April 25, 2010

poop

For those of you thinking about bringing home your very own bundle of joy, I have only one thing to say to you:

You better like poop.

Because as soon as you take that sweet squirming thing home you will have to become fast friends with its poop, there will be lots of it.

And when I say "lots of it" I mean there is going to be more poop than you are accustomed to coming in contact with.  Maybe you've had a dog or cat and they have had the periodic accident in the house, but that is still not comparable to baby.

(I understand that my bundle of joy, when she was tiny, may had produced more poop than normal because of her intolerance, but I stand solid in my opinion.)

Now, when baby poops it is unpredictable in timing and mass.  And aiming.  Say you've just taken baby's diaper off to change it, when BAM! and unexpected spray arches up and over and onto your pants.  Your.  Pants.  Or shorts, or skin, or whatever happens to be in the landing area of the poop.  Because that stuff can fly.

As baby grows up so does her poop.  It goes from a thin goo, to a thicker goo, and eventually to (depending on diet and gut issues) solid poop.  JG's poop differs on a daily basis depending on what decisions/mistakes I've made in what I feed her.  When she goes a day or two without soy in her diet (or mine) she gets some stinky, solid poops.  Okay, well, they are all smelly blobs of disgusting.

I think she prefers to be alone for her solid poops, because she'll wander off to another room and return all stinky.  Like, "Oh, my lord, are toting WMD's around in your pants?!"

Not only do I get to smell her daily gifts (suffocate, more like), but cleaning them up is always a... joy?  I get to find out if a gob of poo will find its way onto my hand, or if the diaper might fly open at the wrong moment and fling poop onto the floor.  Or, maybe the diaper has proven no match and the poo has spread up her back and out the sides onto onesie and pants.

That is always a joy.

What I'm trying to get across here is that in one way or another you will come into contact with your offspring's poop.  It's unavoidable.

Un-a-void-able.

Which is why I always try to make Alex do it.

That's what husbands are for, right?

1 comment:

Spencer said...

Can't you just train her to go out in the yard?