Iain has, recently, changed his pooping habits.
Used to be: multiple times per day, every single day, all the time.
Now, it's: every 2 days, maybe. And get ready with your coveralls and fire hose.
But last week, even the 2-day schedule broke down. After Wednesday, nothing. Of course, Thursday and Friday, I was all, "It's the 2-day schedule!" But on Saturday I starting thinking I should drink some prune juice. So I did. Nothing.
Sunday, I emailed the doctor to ask whether there was anything more to do. Nope. More prune juice, maybe, or "stimulation" with a Q-tip covered in Vaseline. Ewwww.
I drank more prune juice yesterday. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. BUT, no fever, no distress, still eating, still peeing, not fussy (more than usual, anyway).
Then...in the middle of the night...[or at wake-up time, depending on your habits]...it happened. The worst poo I've ever seen. Those of you who are parents are shaking your heads fondly, "Ah, I remember poos like that." But I say to you: no! You have never seen a poo like this. The texture. The color. The smell ["breast-fed babies don't make smelly poo!" Liar!]. The quantity.
What is he eating? From the evidence, you'd think it's rotten bat guts.
I don't think I'll ever be the same. Is this what they meant when they said, "Your life is going to change."?
And, of course, at 8am this morning, he's all "Hi! Wanna play!?! I'm Wide Awake and I feel GREAT!"
1 comment:
Having had a couple of younger siblings, I can still remember how toxic baby poo is. The foulest-smelling stuff outside of a reclaimed meat factory.
My first memories of my baby sister, moments after she arrived home from the hospital, was her sending a thin line of excrement into the air, and all down the furniture she had just been set down on in a steaming, stinking day-glo stripe. I think I nearly fainted.
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