Rollin’ In The Poop: Diaper Changing Advice
Never in my life did I ever think I would become so obsessed with another human’s poop. What color is it? What is it’s consistency? How many times did he poop today? Is that poop under my nail? Every parent knows exactly what I am talking about.
THE STUDY OF POOP
My very first diaper change, ever, occurred the day after I returned home from the hospital with my first born. Since then, very few things have turned out to be as I expected being a mom would be like. The preoccupation with poop is one of them. Of course I knew there would be countless number of diaper changes but I was not prepared to be studying what was inside of them like a scientist looking through a microscope. I also did not expect it to smell the way it did, or that once you smell it you start to smell it everywhere! Sometimes I will literally give my hands a few sniffs, check the sleeves of my shirt and look down the front of myself before realizing its actually just the food sitting on my plate or a candle. Its not that my food smells like poop, I think its more my brain tricking me because it is so attuned to everything baby.
I lost track of how many times I got poop on myself after the first few weeks. And every time it happened I thought of the beginning of Baby Mama “Is that chocolate or poop?”
Makes me laugh every time. Although while babies are on breastmilk their poop looks a lot like the honey mustard dipping sauce with the mustard seeds in it that you get with an order of soft pretzels at a hipster restaurant/brewery.(Sorry for the visual) But since my son has started to eat real food his poop has become much more solid, which means it doesn’t really stick to the diaper anymore, more like just sits in it. So when you pick up said diaper, if you aren’t careful that shit (pun intended) will literally go flying. This is something I have done on numerous occasions, much to my displeasure later when I have to clean it up for a second time. Another thing that has changed is his ability to roll from his back to his stomach with ease, which has now become somewhat of a game on the changing table. Imagine trying to clean poop off the backside of a rotisserie chicken as it rotates, talk about a moving target.
My messiest poop encounter thus far happened earlier this week. It began during a 6 a.m. diaper change, in the dark and without my glasses on-which means I was doing it mostly by feel and muscle memory. Now I know there are those super moms out there who get up at 6 before their baby wakes up in order to do whatever crazy people do that early in the morning. I am not one of those moms, I love my sleep and will take as much of it as I can. I am also a night owl so even though my son is now on a 7 p.m. bedtime schedule, my husband and I are barely ever in bed before 11. Anyway back to the story. So during this 6 a.m diaper change my son tries to begin his rotisserie chicken routine mid butt wipe. As I continue cleaning him up while trying to keep him from flipping over my one finger sinks knuckle deep into the warm mushy mess. “Oh goody” I think to myself. This I assumed was the worst part of the situation as I attempt to wrap him up in a clean diaper and wrestle him back into his pajamas. Well you know what they say about assuming.
Back into the crib he goes, unbeknownst to me with a huge glob of poop stuck to the leg of his sleeper. And back to my bed I go to gratefully catch a few more Zs, only after making a detour to the bathroom to wash the literal shit out from underneath my nail. Since he is such an amazing baby, he gives me a few more hours of much need sleep before deciding it’s time for us to get a move on for the day around 9 a.m. As I make my way into the nursery bleary eyed and in need of a cup of coffee the scene before me is one of a very happy smiling baby with his legs propped up on the side of the crib. That is not what immediately caught my attention however, rather it was the huge glob of something dark brown on one of those upright legs and the smears of that same dark brown color all over the crib sheet. Crap.