Let's Talk About Poop, Shall We

Here's the thing...when you become a mom you have to start being OK with poop. Not all poop - just baby poop, which is different. And this might be an obvious statement, but the truth is my husband is most definitely not OK with poop.

On more than one occasion Macy has had a blow out that no baby wipes could handle, and they required a rinsing off in the sink. To which my husband has exclaimed, "You're going to rinse her off in there? That's where the dishes go!" Yes, you are right my dear husband the dishes do go in there...the dirty dishes, and I wasn't planning on letting the poop just sit in the sink after I rinsed it off her. But my friends, this is where the line is drawn between moms and dads. I don't think about the poop, I just want to get rid of the poop as soon as possible 

But it is never that easy, right?

It starts with the pushing and the grunting. And the cute faces. I am convinced God made my kid look cute when she poops, to save me from my own reactions.

Then there is the question of wanting to know if she is finished or not, but she doesn't talk yet so it is just a cool conversation of me saying over and over again, "Are you done?"

Once I determine she is done the diaper changing begins. This requires me determining whether or not the poop has escaped the diaper or has stayed in tact. If all is well and in the diaper then this is easy peasy, but usually we are dealing with a spill over. First, I do the puzzle that is getting a onesie over my baby's head with out spreading poop all over her, and then I have to figure out how to figure out getting the diaper off and the butt wiped with out any spreadage happening. Because some times frantic movements, and flailing limbs can make for some fun clean up. Once all has been accomplished it is time to make sure there isn't left over poop on anything. Macy, the changing pad, and of course me.

Ahh, but that is the question...do I have poop on me?

I will never forget the time when Macy had a blow out at Pei Wei and I was so proud of the fact that both Macy and I had come away unscathed.

Or so I thought. 

Thirty minutes later we were walking through Total Wine and Jonathan pointed to me and said, "You have poop on you." He was right...there it was on the stomach of my hoodie, and I couldn't do one thing about it. 

Gross I know...but that's motherhood people. Walking around Total Wine with poop on your hoodie.

And now I leave you with some pictures of some blow outs brought to you by Macy. You have been warned.

May the poop be with you.