Poop

Don't all new parents love to talk about poop? Well, I'll tell you the truth. I didn't love this poop. One nice thing about all the solid-food eating is the nice, solid poops that go along with it. Ellie has been feeling kind of yucky (join the club) and hasn't eaten much solid food today. I have been pretty cavalier about this. She doesn't seem too sick, isn't too feverish, etc. Toddlers self-regulate. She'll eat when she's hungry.

I heard her wake up and fuss after her nap earlier, but I ignored it for a few minutes while I woke up myself and got a drink (water! I swear!). She didn't sound like she was going to go back to sleep, so I went in to get her. The minute I hit the doorway, I knew I was in for a treat.

When she was a wee one, we had instances of those classic breastfed poops refusing to be constrained by the dappi (diaper cover) and oozing their way out onto her pajamas and occasionally even the sheets. Well, she's bigger now. And she moves around.

Nasty nasty nasty. Her entire outfit (including shoes!). Her hair. Her body. The toys in the crib. The sheet. The mattress pad. Then: the changing table cover and the extra cloth diapers used to help absorb things. She was one crabby little girl by the time I had her thoroughly wiped off and dressed in clean clothes. This is one glamorous job, I tell ya!

If there was a way to capture the pure essence of a moment - the sight, the smell, the need to drop everything to caringly and rapidly fix what's wrong immediately - I'd love to bottle this one up. I'd carry it around with me and spring it on the unsuspecting jerks who refer to maternity leave as a "paid vacation". And that's not even getting into the "paid" part. I'd also save a little for the thoughtless few who ask me what I do all day or suggest that I take over some major responsibility of theirs since I "don't work." I get less of that now. I guess 12 hours a week is just enough paid-work to make people feel like I'm contributing to society again.