Slapstick has nothing on a baby

You have no idea what I'm planning, do you?

You have no idea what I’m planning, do you?

Seriously.  Larry, Curly, and Moe?  Eat your hearts out.  Babies have the greatest sense of comedic timing in the world, and all their jokes are scatalogical.  You hear what sounds like the poop from Elm Street, you SMELL what smells like the poop from the Bog of Eternal Stench, so you go open that bad-boy of a diaper up and what do you see?  Not a thing.  No poop, not even a little pee.  You shake your head and chuckle that she got you so good with that one and then, only as you are preparing to close that clean diaper back up, does the poop come.

And buddy, when your baby poops free of the diaper, she poops!  Out comes a diaper-filling poo, so you pick her legs up and get to work cleaning up that messy movement.  Right as you get her clean, she poops again, only this time, her legs are in the air, so you have to catch the poop or it’s going to run down her back.  Fortunately, you still had a wipe on hand, so you catch the poop in the wipe, set that wipe down in a diaper that is full of wipes and poop, and grab another one.  You get her clean again, and she poops again.  At this point, the diaper is so full that you are imagining what kind of blowout this would have been if she hadn’t already been out of the diaper.  As soon as she stops pooping, you swap a clean diaper underneath her, because Scotty is screaming, “Captain, I’m givin’ it all I’ve got, but she cannae take much more ‘a this!”  You finish cleaning her up, and just as you do, she pees.

You only ever hear pee stories about baby boys, and, yeah, they’ve definitely got more range and aim, but when a baby girl decides to pee while you’re holding her legs up in the air, that pee goes everywhere.  It gets on the changing pad (yeah, that nice cloth pad that keeps her tush warm while she’s being changed); it goes down her back; if her legs are high enough from cleaning all that poop, it may even go up her tummy and get in her belly button, sending you scrambling for alcohol swabs in a blind panic as you worry about the risk of infection to her umbilical nub.

So you strip off her now-soaked onesie, throw that second diaper away, pick her up off the changing pad and yank it off the changing area, replacing it with the not-nearly-as-warm-or-cushy travel pad, lay her back down on a fresh diaper, clean the pee off of her, and then, right as everything is finished and you are about to close up the diaper….  Yep, you guessed it.  She poops.

Morgan has done this to me twice now, and she’s done it to Jen several times, too.  The first time, we were freshly home from the hospital, so the poop had no smell, but had the consistency of chocolate taffy.  The second time was a couple of days ago.  The picture below was taken after the third poop.

Actual picture of the diaper. True story.