Sunday, June 22, 2008


(warning: poop talk)

I spend a great deal of time thinking about poop these days. And I think I'm not alone based on the number of posts about poop I've read on other people's blogs. Mostly I worry, has she? will she? and when? Recently I've begun to worry what I'll get when I pull open her diaper. Will it be the gooey mess I'm used to or the new solid variety. When the solids made their first appearance I was a tad unnerved. However, I have come to prefer them. How great is that? I have a poop preference.

Lucky for me, it's been mostly smooth sailing in the poo department since the bean arrived, with only a few blips. However, this morning we had an incident. The setting: I'm changing Sophie on her fireplace changing station. She's being a cool customer for a change. Usually it's arms and legs EVERYWHERE. When I pull down her diaper, there's a little roundish turd. Not a big deal, except that as I'm rolling up her diaper for disposal, that little turd makes a run for it and lands smack on the cat's scratch box next to the fireplace. Which now that I think about it is much better than landing on our new carpet. I say something very witty and appropriate like "oh crap!"

Although I need to keep one hand on the babe so she doesn't roll off, I don't believe I'll have any trouble reaching it. However, I just used the last baby wipe and the tissue box is across the room. There's no chance I'm picking it up barehanded and somehow the idea of leaving it sit there while I finish up the diapering and redressing seems too yucky. And that's when I realize
that this is what my life has come to - errant poo retrieval. Not that long ago I was living the high life with great clothes, parties, exotic vacations and, ohhhh, a waistline. I spent my days working to acquire multi-million dollar contracts for my employer. My nights, well those I spent sleeping. And here I am, staring down a turd.

Once I got my wits about me, I realized that I was just going to have to sacrifice a new diaper for the cause. So that's just what I did. In the end, I've come to terms with the poop pondering, handling and disposing that are a part of my life now. And crazy as it sounds, I wouldn't change a thing. Now, how do I tell the cats that the baby pooped on their scratching post?

Edited to add: The faux brick behind the fireplace was there when we moved in and I haven't figured out what else to put there or how to change it (maybe painting?) to make it look less, um, faux. Any ideas??


  1. I've sooo been there! Well, not exactly all the way there. I never changed my child on the wood stove or dropped a turd on the cat scratcher thingy. But I've blogged about poop and pondered how our lives (after seven childless years) came to the point after babies came along that the particular topic of poop seemed to be so popular when I'd never before thought so much about it.

    Only another parent of wee ones could truly relate to this!

  2. "And here I am, staring down a turd." LOL!

  3. There was about a year when I thought to myself that my entire existence revolved around cleaning up human waste...that was with 2 in diapers.
    Things are better now ;)

  4. From one turd starer to another: well done.

  5. "Errant poo retrieval" is the funniest thing I've read all day.

    BSG and a sense of humor? I'm so in love with you!

    If it makes you feel any better, when I picked up my 2.5 year old this morning, I felt the poo squish inside my hand. (Yes--still not potty trained. Don't even get me started.) It was GREEN. Thank you, Froot Loops. Thank you anti-bacterial soap. But no thanks to the Target pull-ups...they didn't hold up their end of the bargain.

  6. I mentioned your new found appreciation to my sister, and she alerted me to a web site totally devoted to poop:
    I am just as stunned as you are.

  7. Ah, poop! It follows you from the tar-ish newborn stuff, to solids, to their 1st potty-poop, to ... well, after the potty, you can only hope the poo STOPS following you.

    Again, you can only hope ...


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