My first daughter, Earth Baby was a pretty good breastfeeding baby. We didn’t have latch problems really, though it did hurt some in the first two weeks, she gained weight well, she had an internal clock that said to eat every 2 hours the first week and then it self regulated nicely to a 3-4 hour schedule and within a few weeks she was sleeping a 6 hour stretch at night. I had it made. Thought I was all that too. My baby was perfect. In the hospital, before coming home, she transitioned from the new baby tar butt that was the result of meconium to yellowish, seedy smears in her diaper. A nurse explained how many she should produce a day and we were on our way. There were the appropriate amount of those smeared diapers every day and things were just farting along nicely. When Earth Baby was around one week old we experienced our first, um, taste, of her potential. It turned out, those smears were just the warm up. Her A game was far more impressive. And not cute.
But it was hilarious.
The Piano Man was the honored one. He was changing her on our sweet little changing table with a chux pad the hospital sent home with us down for protection. We’d been using the same chux pad since we got home and weren’t sure why they told us they were great to have around for changes. Still so new to this baby thing, I took pictures constantly and that was even back in the day of *gasp* film! Yeah, I was taking pictures of him changing her diaper. Really more because he was so cute handling this little person, I just couldn’t help taking pictures. I only wish it had been a video camera.
Having already established his method of changing her, The Piano Man talked to her sweetly as he unsnapped the bottom of her jammies and pulled them up around her waist. Grabbing a wipe, he unfastened her wet diaper and laid the wipe over her girly parts to avoid a bubbling fountain of pee since she often went once air was permitted to her nether regions. He grabbed another wipe and, still talking to her, proceeded to lift her legs to wipe her down.
It was like a pulling a lever to release a bomb. A poop bomb. He pulled those legs up and off went the missile. Not a slow release, no. A fast burst of hot, yellow, thick liquid poop squirted out. This wasn’t a smear but rather like someone had thrown a gallon of paint. It hit the wall, the edge of the changing table, The Piano Man (pretty amazing since he was to the side and not in the direct line of fire) and even a little got on the chux pad. Like, maybe a smear.
And then Earth Baby heard her first swear word. You think you’re never going to swear in front of your kids. But then, you also never think your precious infant is going to launch weapons of mass destruction from their behind in toxic hues of glowing yellow.
I laughed.
I laughed and laughed and laughed. I didn’t help clean up. I laughed, snorting and hiccuping until tears ran down my face. And I took pictures. Sadly I can’t find them but I will because this photographic evidence is priceless. Plus, Earth Baby is now 11, I’m sure she’d love to see pictures of her poop. What adolescent wouldn't?
I adore this story! Keep recalling well into her teenage years, It will get funnier and funnier :-P
ReplyDeleteoh yes, I remember copping this on the couch with H.
ReplyDeletemmmmm yummy!
My little one did that to me. He had a vendetta against my black stretch pants-- you know the only ones that fit me for the first week postpartum. I would get dressed and sit down on the daybed to change his diaper and without fail, I'd lift his little bum and a solid stream of hot mustardy goo would come shooting out all over my beloved comfy pants. I finally stopped wearing them after the third time!
ReplyDeleteOMG that is too funny! And I can totally relate! I would have stood there laughing too. In fact, I did when my 3-day-old son peed all over the hospital room! I had to sit on the bed, because my c-section was starting to hurt from me laughing so much! He managed to hit me, the ceiling, the walls (3 of them somehow) a chair, the little sink in the room (directly in the line of fire!) and of course the entire isolette needed to be changed! Somehow, even though it was a team effort, DH managed to barely get hit; just his shoes. I think he stood behind me, and I was off the side too! Gotta love little boys' aim!
ReplyDeleteROFL! This happened to my hubby on day 4 of DS's little life. hubby had let me sleep in and took the baby for me. Not even 10 minutes later he was in the doorway, with dijon mustard looking poop dripping down his stomach and down his legs onto his feet. Instead of help all he got was a laugh and a "don't track that shit all over my rug."
ReplyDeleteI so love this post. I have a hilarious pic of the huz covered in poo somewhere too
ReplyDeletethis is going in Sunday Surf
bwahahaha! After about a week or so of carefully watching me, my husband felt comfortable enough to change our little guy. A week in, he was really getting the hang of it and had taken over most changes, which he would perform on the little pack and play changing station thingy. One day as we were getting ready to walk out the door with our little miniature bundle of love, BAM! DH was hit with the poop bomb. He was in the direct line of fire, but somehow it also ended up on the carpet about 6 ft away. I laughed, helped clean up, and we were on our way. Two days later...BAM! Different day, different poop, same result. Two days later my husband conveniently broke his arm playing hockey. He hasn't changed a diaper since.
ReplyDeleteHAHAHAHA! Stephanie, he figured out that diaper changing put him in the line of fire, huh?
ReplyDeleteI have so many poop stories I could write a book. Squiggle Bug actually wins the prize in our family (so far) with a poop explosion. On Easter. In all white. Both she and I. All white. Out to eat. Her weight in gold... poop. It was dripping. Everywhere. The Piano Man was the one laughing that time and I so deserved it.
I love it! The exact same thing happened with my hubby and my daughter. I did the exact same thing you did, I couldn't stop laughing long enough to help. Later, I felt pretty guilty for laughing and not helping, but at least now I know I am not the only one, lol! I only wish I would have thought to take pictures!
ReplyDeleteI thought my kiddo was some kind of poop mutant, nice to know he's not the only one! Our projectile poo happened in the wee hours of the morning, so clean-up was shall we say lukewarm...
ReplyDeleteWhich we discovered the next morning when there was still poo on the wall, confirming that yes, precious baby boy really did do that!
Now that we are on solids and cutting teeth, I miss the straight breastmilk poo, it smelled so pleasant, like freshly turned earth. Now when I wash diapers I wish I had a respirator!
oh my goodness. :) these stories make me smile. When I went to see my midwife for our 6 week postpartum checkup, something like this happened. My midwife was talking to my daughter and said, "oh are you just going to start grunting and pooping as soon as I see you?" And then she turned to me and said, "I don't know what it is about my house, but babies always poop as soon as they get here." I smiled and said something like oh she already pooped this morning, she shouldn't go again. And then it happened. I turned her over to pat her back and noticed that her entire sleeper was soaking in yellow... haha.
ReplyDeleteOh my. This happened to me on my very first Mother's Day as a mama. My sweet baby girl first showered me in pee- which sent me shrieking up the stairs, laughing and shouting at my husband, "NO ONE EVER TOLD ME GIRLS COULD SPRAY PEE LIKE THAT!!!" A short while later, the poo geyser erupted... all over me. I even found some in the pocket of my oversized cardigan sweater later in the day. My husband laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
ReplyDelete