Ode to Poop

We have been parents now for about 2 years and have been through some of the typical experiences of these years. Night feedings, colds, bumps on the head, phases of food throwing. And did I mention diaper changes? A quick google search tells me that during the first year, babies go through somewhere in the neighborhood of 2500 to more than 3000 diapers. That’s a few. It is sort of a hazing ritual you have to go through to join the parent club. The loss of sleep is just bonus.

But what the number 3000 does not tell you is the tremendous variety of diapers that you will change during these years. Of course the easy one is the wet diaper. That is one that doesn’t even seem like a diaper change. You can do that one in your sleep. Literally. The only other good diaper is the one that you think is going to be really poopy because he has been smelly for about a half an hour. You finally get a chance to change the diaper and after getting the wipes, the clean diaper, the mat to change him on, and a facemask (not really though I have thought about it), you open the diaper to find nothing. Wow. What a relief. Of course the relief is short lived. Where there is smoke, there will be fire!

But once you get into the true poopy diaper, then the fun begins. The most dreaded is the up-the-back-while-in-the-carseat poop. This one is particularly onerous when you don’t discover it until arriving at your destination. The only cure for this is full body bath which never seems to be an option when this happens. The car seat cover must be washed also which is hard to do on a road trip. Fortunately, we have only had this situation a couple of times.

This post has grown way too detailed so I will only mention the other varietals by name. The run of the mill soft playdo doo. The dripping out of the diaper diarrhea. The walking around naked nugget on the driveway/deck. The hard as rock marble. The liquid. The no smell surpise. The normal poo but left on way too long so it is hard to get off poo. Need I continue?

I say all this to say, we are not poop neophytes. We have endured our share of diaper time. I thought we were experienced. But yesterday, I walked in to get The Brown after a nap, and as soon as I opened the door, I knew one of two things had happened. We had trapped a dead armadillo in the attic (unlikely in Chattanooga) or we had just discovered a new level of smelly poop. I turned around to request back up. She (a.k.a. backup, aka wife) looked as me somewhat doubtfully. I said, come see/smell for yourself. After she had satisfied herself that this was indeed a new level, she said, “oh, no, the pesto.” What? Turns out, Brown had decided to major in pesto the previous day. Lots of pesto.

After double bagging this specimen and rushing it outdoors, a sense of normal odor began to return to our house. However, twice more during the remainder of the day, this ghost of pesto past returned to give freely of its smell. Brown has now been asleep for the night and is only now beginning to wake up. I am all nerves. Will this Pesto Poop, this Granddaddy of Nasal Annoyance, this Most Feared Fecal Fountain return to haunt us yet again today? Only time will tell. But we have now learned 2 more lessons in our parenting. Never underestimate the power of the poo. And never, no matter how tempting or how much he begs for it. Never give the Brown pesto before a long car ride. Trust me. I am a certified poop professional.