discuss baby bowels. If you find this type of talk off-putting, please, avert your eyes.*
In the past several weeks, my baby boy has made the transition from one hundred percent milk drinking to 60/40 milk and solids. It has been a most exciting time for our family, because watching this little guy eat real food is akin to watching someone open presents on Christmas day, every day. But just like Christmas, there’s always a mess to clean up afterwards. Consequences, really, to all this ‘solid food joy’. The not so pleasant side to changing eating habits? Dealing with the changes ‘down there’. Lemme ‘splain:
Frequency: There has been an increase in baby butt activity. All of a sudden, I’m going from changing two to three poopy diapers a day, to nine! I wonder if it’s genetic, because if it is, my sweet boy seems to be taking after his father. It brings a tear to my eye…
Texture: Without getting into too much detail, he went from ‘Natural Peanut Butter’ to various shaped ‘Playdoh nuggets’.
Color: Like Skittles, it’s the colors of the rainbow nowadays.
Smell: As soon as I open his diaper, *POOF*, there’s an odd whiff of morning breath! Some may say, “Oh come on! I’ll take morning breath over poopy smell any day!” No my friends. No. Don’t say such things. ‘Essence De Morning Breath’ is not something to mess with nine times a day. That’s why it’s called ‘morning’ breath and not ‘all day’ breath – smelling it once during the day is all one can stand and still stay alive.
Ah, friends. My life has turned into Monkeyland, and the topic of interest is always my baby’s doo-doo pie. This phase will pass – and not soon enough for some of you, I know – but let me enjoy this moment. Soon enough, he’ll be able to use the bathroom on his own, and all I’ll have to sustain me are the sweet memories of washing doo from under my nails, and holding my breath to the point of tears. Sweet, sweet memories.