>Zach only poops every other day, which turns out to be perfectly normal for him. Its color and consistency vary based on the amount of formula and breastmilk he gets the day before the Big Poop. And I mean BIG POOP. As in he needs an entire wardrobe change and sometimes even a bath afterwards. With my work schedule lately, these Big Poops usually happen to John. Tonight I just happened to be home, which means it was my turn to deal with it by default.
Nothing could have prepared me for it. Nothing.
First I opened the crotch snaps of his little jumper. Then the onesie. Of course I could tell from the outside that some had leaked on his side. And I was initially happy. Here lately I have been so fed up with the milk supply battle that I have switched from my regimen of pumping every 2 hours to just nursing Zach. I don’t think I am ever going to have a full supply again, so instead I can relax and focus on the bonding with my baby boy that comes with physically nursing him. Of course this means I have very little idea of exactly how much breastmilk he is actually getting with a feeding. But the little bit of leakage I detected was yellow and seedy, telling me he is getting a significant amount. Oh Happy Day!
But then I actually got the clothing pulled up far enough. And I unfastened the front of his diaper. And the look on my face must have been comical because Zach got all giggly and smiley on me. How in the blue hell does a child poop forward????? I mean exactly that. There was absolutely nothing on his bottom. Instead, it was all up his front. And no, he was not laying on his belly when the Big Poop occurred, thus allowing gravity to do the job. He was semi-reclined on his back in his bouncy seat. And there was so much of it that I went through 3/4 of a wipes container to clean it up.
Somehow I managed to get the soiled clothes and onesie over his head without getting it all over his hair. Don’t ask me how. I was actually contemplating cutting his clothes off with my trauma shears that I use in codes at work, but he was wearing an expensive outfit, so I resisted the urge. But that is when I did the unthinkable…
Here he is, still all giggly and smiley and kicking his legs with reckless abandon, and I made the mistake only novice mothers make: I left the diaper too close to his kicking legs. So it is no mystery how it ended up all over his be-socked foot, which then contacted his other leg. And before I know it, his entire front side is….well, you get the picture.
Of course by this point, all I can do is take him straight to the bathtub after wiping it all up with wipes. But then I made another novice-mommy mistake. I carried him at arms length, facing toward me, through the house to the bathroom. Weapon cocked and loaded. And I needed a shower afterwards, too, for my sweet little angel hosed me down good with his pee. Of course this provoked more funny looks and strange noises from me, which delighted Zach even further. More giggling and smiling. More leg-kicking. And this time, I even got some little squeals to go along, which made me laugh. Of course I never dreamed there would be a day that I would laugh while being soaked with pee. Evan never did this to me. (He did throw up in my mouth once, and then there was the time he ate his own poop, but that is a story that is just too traumatic to discuss ever again!)
So there it is. We have found Zach’s special gift: his shit defies the laws of physics.