Morbidly delighted to see poo

Posted by E-George on November 20, 2008

I believe that have received the mommy superpower of interpretation. I can now translate a cry into a problem source and often times take action on a drama-abating solution. Sometimes, however, the cry cannot be assuaged because there is nothing to do but let nature take its course.

Evelyn is learning the critical life skill that if one holds on to farts they grow corners and refuse to leave as if they were some sort of malevolent spirit. The easiest way to dislodge those stubborn gas bombs is to get in the car and take a drive and the gentle movement of the car veering through traffic is usually enough to resolve all bubble issues, be they top or bottom residing. Over the last two days nothing was working and Evelyn had grown inconsolable. It was obvious from her cry that she was desperately uncomfortable, but there was nothing I could do but to try to gently coach her on bearing down and farting, but alas, to no avail. I knew it was a bubble. I just knew it. But, I still questioned myself, thinking that perhaps she was just hungry. Or perhaps she was tired. Yet, deep down, I felt strongly that it was a stuck bubble.

Tonight, we went to a childbirth class reunion, where the six couples from our childbirth class..um…reunioned and showed off our respective babies. As Evelyn and I sat on the couch Evelyn tooted two very benign sounding farts. I took note, congratulated her, encouraged her to produce more, but didn’t take any immediate diaper-related action until I smelled The Smell. Even then, I didn’t move on changing her diaper with any particular swiftness because the farts themselves were so utterly unimpressive (Face it, she’s shot some off with sufficient gusto as to nearly blow the footies off of her sleepers.). As I began to unsnap her cunning little sleeper I was greeted with The Blowout of The Century. A more spectacular display of poop over-abundance has never before been seen and, had I a camera handy, I would’ve documented it for posterity. It was coming out both leg holes and the top or the diaper, and was smeared in a nice, evenly distributed layer on the inside of her sleeper from her navel on down to her ankles. Let’s put it this way: It was a 10-wipie clean-up job. Plus, a wardrobe change.

As I shoveled poo, I couldn’t help but smile and congratulate Evelyn on a job well done, because, seriously, that was a JOB. WELL. DONE. I was equally delighted at having been right. My instincts were right! It was a bubble. And, even though she was still crying, it was now obvious that she was crying because she was hungry. I mean who wouldn’t be? Anyone who could dislodged a small nuke of poo would certainly and suddenly have room in the stomach again for food.

Filed Under: Evelyn, Thank you, and GOOD NIGHT! - Comments: Read the First Comment



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