Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Poop

I'm a little tired of it.

Many of you probably know that breast-fed babies tend to do it a little more than formula fed kids. I was well aware of it being a NICU nurse... What I was less familiar with, was the breast fed kids who prefer the marathon pooping routine over the "poop-every-time-I-eat" one. Ella has adopted the former, and I'm not a big fan. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, allow me to explain. Since I realize a video is probably not an appropriate way to explain all this on a G-Rated blog, I'll simply create an image.

It happens 2 or 3 times a day... always shortly after I begin feeding her. I can now sense when it's coming, as she straightens her legs out, stiffens up her abdomen, and far-from-discreetly lets out ridiculously loud grunts that signal she is desperately trying to "help things along". And just in case the noise isn't enough to clue everyone around her in... the intense squishing of the face along with the beet red coloring are sure to confirm it all. Her calm suckling suddenly switches to biting (thank goodness there are no teeth yet)... and then... suddenly... no matter how prepared you are... the explosion makes you jump. No kidding... Eric almost dropped her once! You would swear in that moment that intestines shot out along with all that was in them, and no way could such a tiny little human being have room to store all that up... and then... another bomb! A yellowish warm leak begins to emerge on the back of her clothing... and it's time to hit the changing table. Or not. Before you can even stand up the red face, tense belly, and legs stiffen once more as the adorable yet sneaky little monster on your lap explodes with a vengeance that puts her father's intestines to shame! Finished? Heck NO!! Two or even three more shots are yet to come with my sweet baby girl grunting like those scary die-hard weight lifters you see in the gym. By now the small yellow warm spot on her back now saturates her outfit... and my own. I wait... suspending her in the air in a pathetic attempt to protect all around her from more damage... praying that the battle is over. The squished, red, weight lifter face suddenly returns to it's pure and angelic appearance... and all is calm once again. Why I bother feeding this child is beyond me... but all the books and doctors tell you that you must.

For a moment, I'm left wondering what the best plan of action. Becoming a mother basically carries with it the loss of all modesty and dignity. So there I sit... boob out and dripping (sorry... the details are necessary)... with warm wet stains on one of the two pairs of pants that fit me right now... balancing a poop-soaked (yet very content) baby mid-air.

Just two nights ago... this is again where Ella and I found ourselves. At 4am... it really is a good time let me tell you. I wobbled down the hall to her bedroom to disrobe us both and suddenly... something warm and mushy surrounded my toes. You see... about 3 months ago we began tying Max out on a stake to do his business rather than letting him go free to mess up the neighbors yard. He has been in somewhat of a rebellion on and off ever since. Apparently, not long before I got up with Ella that night... he had chosen to unleash that rebellion in the hallway outside her room.

Perfect.

So there I was... boob dripping... poop soaked baby... I don't really need to review do I? Just add dog feces to my foot now. Max was lucky. Had I not been so pre-occupied with my child decorated in feces (and now very hungry), I would have turned him loose outside, bidding the family of hungry coyotes "Bon Apetite!". Seriously. The dog must die.

Why is it that this is not the image of Motherhood that we all fantasize about when we dream of having our own children some day? I've decided God must count on our naive nature... or else NONE OF US WOULD EVER HAVE THEM!!

Ah... good times. You can imagine my response when my well-rested husband greeted me in the morning asking, "how was your night?".

*sigh*
"Fine, honey. No problem. Thanks for asking... sleep well?"

I do love them all... really... I do. :)

(innocent looking, aren't they?)

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

That is so funny. She dure doesn't look like that much trouble. Remind me to tell you a story of Eric and myself before we left the hospital. We were both a mess.
JOyce

andrew,betsy,& noura said...

haha that cracked me up!! And I thought Noura's constipated grunts and red face was bad...I'd rather pick that!(for me, not her!) I agree that God wants us naive...if I knew I'd be covered in puke 24/, I'd think again...but their sweet little faces make it all worth it! Oh the stories we can tell their future spouses!:)

Randi Jo :) said...

LOL
that was hilarious.... I remember those days. I am so glad you told this story because literally I thought I was the only person who went through the poopy explosion stuff --- people would ask to hold him - and I'd be nervous - not because of them holding him --- but because I was afraid he's go and get poopy all over them. I don't get why the diapers didn't hold it. It's just a massive amount I guess. Thanks for telling this story - it really did make me realize that it wasn't me that was a basketcase and a mess...it's just the way of newborns I guess haha. I don't feel any rush for baby # 2 yet though.... thanks again, have a great day! :)

Jessica said...

You crack me up!! I finally started putting two diapers on Callen...helped a lot with the leakage! Yes, we quickly forget ALL those unpleasant things associated with pregnancy and newborn stages. Thankfully it continues on into toddler, and little kid stages too or else I'd be outta here!! :) Glad you still have your sense of humor in the midst of all that pooping!! (I also invest in plug-ins!!)

Scott and Lisa said...

That story is hilarious!! And Scott thanks you for taking away a little of the motherhood urge I've been having lately. There's still alot left! Hope tonight isn't as bad. :) Love the pics.

Anonymous said...

Oh my ! If I were not already a mother (of 25 + years), I think this story would definitely deter me from becoming one. HA ! :-)

Love your humor.
Jackie (Marion, IN)

Mare said...

Oh, how sweet it is!

Love ya,
Mare

yellowgirl said...

ohhhh boy! the things I have to look forward to! Hilarious story though!