The Diaper Diaries, Episode One

This post is about baby poop. I was batting around the idea of sharing this story, and my dear friend Jenny Kramer told me I had to. She's a new mother, has already experienced a few poop-tastrophes, and apparently loves a good turd story. So Jenny, I dedicate this one to you.

The Diaper Diaries, Episode One:

Kensey slept late this morning and I was stoked to get to shower. When she woke up she was in a good mood, so I got her settled in the bathroom and had time to blow dry. Score!

Mid-way through drying my hair my cell phone rang. It was a professional recruiter. I have no intention of going back to work right now, but I hadn't been [professionally] courted for a while. I entertained the call. It was flattering to be [professionally] desired.

A few minutes into the call, I see Kensey making her pooping face. A couple grunts and pushes later, she's smiling from ear to ear and stinking something fierce. I have to change her STAT.

I'm carefully balancing the phone between my ear and chin and half-listening to the recruiter when I scoop up the baby with my free arm and see it.

There is a big, wet, yellowish brown spot in Kensey's pajamas mid-way between her bottom and left leg. I know I have a full-fledged diaper leak on my hands.

So now I'm trying to get off the recruiter off the phone (who wants to chat). I'm standing over the baby who is on the changing table doing what resembles a full-fledged calisthenics workout. The brownness under the pjs is overtaking her leg with every squirm and wiggle and I am dreading what I had in store.

I get to work. I hold my breath, unzip the pajamas, avoid spillage, and extract the right leg. Then I bend Kensey's left knee and peel the pjs off her leg. Poop covers her left leg down to her toes. I take her diaper off and turn to gets the wipes. The baby slaps her legs together and then grabs her feet, so now her butt, legs, feet, tummy, arms and hands are covered in poop. I fear the inevitable next move, which is putting her hands in her mouth. With my left hand I am holding her arms down which causes her to flail more. With my right, I am attempting to wipe up poop but its smearing everywhere. I have poop up to my elbows and all over my shirt.

Ding Dong. Oh yes, you read right. DING. DONG. The doorbell. Today is the day the painters arrive. I completely forgot.

In a moment of panic, I wrap Kensey, the dirty diaper and pajamas in a blanket and carry them all to the front door. I swing it open, smile feebly and say, "Hello. Come in. We are covered in poop".

From there I bring my dirty load to the bathroom. The diaper and pajamas went in the trash and the baby got scrubbed in the sink (she had poop in between her toes!).

We had made it. I gently life my sweet and clean smelling baby out of the sink, towel her off and whispered to her, "We survived it, Kiddo. We made it through."

And she replied with a "Bluuaah". Spit up down my back.