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yes yes, you already know you will have to change nappies and of course there is no positive spin to that… but what you dont realise is that from the second you go into labour your entire existence. your every day. now revolves solely around poop…

Change me... Change me NOW!!!

Change me… Change me NOW!!!

BC – before children, I never realised how much of life revolved around poop.
Seriously, from the moment you go into labour poo will become the epicentre of your universe…
Is that a contraction or constipation??!! NO YOU CANT GO TO THE TOILET! PUSHHH!!! ( but I don’t want to poop my pants… And seriously… I just have to go.. Let me go.. Please let me go.) and ta da.. Out baby comes… Delivered amidst the confusion of your bowels and into a world of modern vs traditional cloth vs synthetic nappies.

And so it begins… The importance of poop.
Is baby ok?? I don’t know? What is that disgusting black, sticky bowel evacuation? Is that normal?? Oh god that’s gross??!! That can’t be normal??!! NNNUUURRSSEEE!!!!!! Yup, that’s normal. Oh ok..

Oh my god!!! What is that!!!! It’s yellow cottage cheese!!! That’s not that normal black stuff… NNUUURRRSSSEEEE!!!!! Oh, that’s normal too. Ok.

Is baby feeding ok??
I don’t know! I am new to this? How would I know?! Ah – have they pooped??!! Yes, well then they are feeding…
Is my baby sick?? I don’t know, check their poop
Is baby healthy? I don’t know. Check their poop.
Is the sun passing through Gemini and increasing my psychic ability

What mess?

What mess?

? I don’t know! Check bub’s poop!!!

Seriously, at some point, before you even leave the hospital and go off into the scary real world you will not only be asked ( often) but be expected to know and recite, maybe even describe or categorise your baby’s daily poo diary ( oh and of course.. Have you pooped yet too?! That’s a whole other experience… Best not discuss that one now… )
How often, what colour, what smell, what texture!!?? Hey – that one looks like a butterfly! ( did my baby eat a butterfly?!) oooooh, I see, this one is part of the psychological rorshach ink blot tests! That poo just moved!! It is a living organism!! It’s flubber!!! Seriously! It just sat up and talked to me!! Oh, I am sleep deprived.. Ok, maybe it didn’t then..
Who knew poo could reveal so much!!??
And then when you have ticked all the poo boxes on the nurses chart you are free to go home and the fun really begins…

Oh… So you want to go out?
Has bub pooped yet?
No? You best wait…
Ewwww!!! Yup there it is…
Remove nappy… Oh god that’s gross… Stop wriggling bub.. What’s wrong AAARRRGGHHHHHHH!!!! Poonami!! As a tidal wave of poop comes flowing like an unstoppable force…
Right, there can’t possibly be anything left. Bub, you have pooped more in volume than your entire body.. Let’s get dressed and go…
Aw, aren’t you cute! And look, I even brushed my hair and have fresh clothes on,!!
Oh look, a smile!!! You’re the cutest baby in the whole wide HOLY CRAP!!!!! Poosplosion!!! Eeeeek!!! It’s escaping!!! Omg omg omg!!! What do I do what do I do??? Did you swallow a fire extinguisher kid??!! What the hell!!?? You just painted the wall… Three metres away!!!! How is this even possible.

You made it out??
Well done.
What’s that smell??
Oh god.. Not here!
No, don’t touch it! Get your hands out of it! NOOOOO!!!! Don’t eat it, stop!!, put your hand out of it! Bugger.
It’s ok, I have a nappy bag and a change of clothes.
A change of clothes…
What the hell do you mean you have leaked again???
A pee through??!! Are you freaking kidding me?!
Screw this kid, I am out of spare clothes.
You can now wear this designer outfit I have crafted out of mcdonalds serviettes.

New restaurant opening in town??!! Sweeeeeet! Must to check it out. No baby change table??!! Screw that! I am Eating At our local food court.

Been on hold to centrelink for 45 minutes… The call drops in…. Pppfffft! Oh crap. Now??! Really??!! NOW!!!?? Wwwwaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Its ok… I’ve got this. Can’t be that hard right?  I can nestle the phone between shoulder and chin while I change you… Stop squirming. Stays still you screaming, wriggling son of a *^%#\… Oh christ that smells! No, don’t put your hands in the nappy rash cream… Oh bugger… As the phone slips out inevitably landing in the biggest pile of fresh steam it can find. Magnetically drawn to it I am sure…  Hello, hello centrelink… I’ll call you back.

 

Awwww… Look at you all relaxed and smiley in the bath!! OH!!! You are THAT relaxed??!! Don’t eat it!! Don’t eat it!! don’t… Oh god that’s gross!!!

And as they get older the fun just grows along with the size of the output until eventually you hit the stage that I firmly do believe is the reason behind the term “shitfight”. Envisage chimps hurling their faeces at each other in the simplest terms possible and you’re getting close to the mark…
You know this stage… That time when bubs is strong enough to wriggle and roll and wrestle in protest to getting their nappy changed… The time when scratches to your face, eye gouges and kicks to the chest are just another part of your day… And that time when no matter how much brute force you use in pinning your unruly pooper down, they will somehow Houdini their way free, inevitably rolling through the crappiest part of the nappy smearing it on their arms, legs, the change mat and any object within a three km radius… I note, this instance is almost always followed by one of those endearing moments where they reach their little hands out and gently caress your face. whilst their hands are smeared in steaming god forsaken poop…
Yes, that nappy smell is not your imagination nor is it merely the burnt olfactory nerve which will repeat that fragrance all day… No, you do actually have poo smeared on your face, and under your nails.
You just ate lunch with those hands didn’t you… You forgot to wash, didn’t you.

Then there is the toilet training.
Mine haven’t reached that age yet.
I live in fear.

Baby wipes and patience to all!

 

 

 

 

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