Oh, POO!

Attention! This Blog is about poop. Poop will be discussed in ways only parents of small children can appreciate. If you're not sympathetic to parental poopie issues, please click here.

People who don't have kids are often mystified, and probably grossed out, by new parents who are seemingly obsessed with poop. Poop (and pee) are an indicator of an infant's health, and pediatricians will often have new parents monitoring frequency, quantity, and consistency. They even give you a little chart for it.

Poop is often the first indicator that your baby is not well. A sudden change in consistency, quality, or quantity can indicate a change in health. You can mark your child's reaction to dietary changes in poop. You can even tell when a baby has changed from breast milk to formula.

Let's face it, we are trained to be poopie heads!

Good thing too, because unless your baby is one of those who, through rigorous training or sheer dumb luck potty trains early, you're going to be looking at poop for a couple of years. From the rabbit-dropping variety to explosive diarrhea, you will see it all, until you feel completely jaded about poop. There's no poopie you can't handle, no smell you can't endure, no full diaper you can't use for a medical diagnosis.

But I'd completely forgotten about the Mega-Poopie stage, which Baby arrived at last week.

During the Mega-Poopie stage the quantity of a baby's poop becomes astronomic. No diaper, no matter how expensive, can possibly hold it all. If you smell it you go for a recycled plastic grocery bag before even picking the baby up, because the diaper, once unwrapped, will not contain the load. Leaks are frequent, and I don't care if you're using Super Pampers or a budget diaper, ain't nothin' gonna help.

The real issue, however, occurred because apparently I neglected to tell Hubby that baby had entered the mega-poopie phase. Debate continues whether I forgot to tell him or he had his selective hearing off, but regardless he didn't get the memo.

So Sunday Hubby is letting be sleep in a little, and goes in the boys' room to get Baby up, and I hear "Oh Sh*t!"

Followed by "Honey? I'm going to need your help."

Yeah, I knew that was coming.

Not only did Baby have a Mega-Poopie, but when he sat up it leaked. And Baby then discovered finger painting.

Thank goodness he never got to the textured walls! But a bath, complete crib change with about half a container of Chlorox Wipes and lots of Lysol , and a load of laundry later, things were mostly back to, well, whatever passes for normal around here.

This, too, will pass, if you'll pardon the pun. Until then we're just dealing with a lotta poop!