Things That Blow

My daughter has always been a prolific pooper, but today takes the cake (or the mudpie, as it were). All exits were compromised--front of the diaper, back of the diaper, and both leg holes. She was up to her armpits and down to her knees in the sweet mustard that is breastfed baby shit. Apparently, in the malodorous spectrum of infantile bowel movements, everything is normal. From babies who make only weekly deposits neatly contained within their diaper to ones, like my own, who leave a gift (that keeps on giving) with every changing, it's all within the normal range. The subject never ceases to amaze me. And from what I hear from some of my friends, the adventure is just beginning. Oh, the stories we can tell. Motherhood will change a woman in a lot of ways, but never is it more apparent than in her fascination with baby dookie.


Blogger Carrie said...

I just started my daughter on solids. I gave her prunes two days in a row. Boy was that a mistake. I never thought I would be so intrigued by poop.

4:24 PM  

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