For today's post, we head back almost 12 years to The Girl's first days at home, for a story I like to call
The Poop Scream.
The Girl was born in March of 2002. Everything went fine, and we were released from the hospital a few days later. Hubby was a great hands-on dad. The Girl was a little on the dehydrated side, because my milk still hadn't fully come in, so we supplemented with some formula the hospital gave us, and Hubby was more than happy to feed his beautiful baby girl a bottle. He got up with her in the middle of the night to bring her to me for feedings, he gave her baths, he changed her clothes when she spit up, and he sat with her for what seemed like forever, smiling and making faces at her.
Then came his first solo diaper change.
He didn't argue when his time came. He had done diaper changes before, with me beside him, helping him learn shortcuts and tricks of the trade. But this would be his first solo one, with me all the way down the hall,
waiting patiently in the living room. Plus, it was only a pee diaper, so he had this one under control.
Let's pause for a moment here, so I can fill you in on our first little house. It was a one story, 2 bedroom, with the bedrooms off to the right when you walked in the front door, the kitchen straight ahead, and the living and dining rooms to the left of the front door. The Girl's room was at the end of the hall, and we had our living room set up to where when you sat on the couch, you just had to look left, and you could see down the hall and into The Girl's room. Her changing table was directly next to the door, to the right, when you walked into her room. Got all that?
The time came for Hubby's first solo diaper change, and he picked his daughter up and headed to her bedroom. I sat on the couch, not sure how this would go. A minute or so went by...
... and the most high pitched, girly scream I had ever heard Hubby make, came erupting from The Girl's room. As I shot a glance toward her bedroom, a very frantic Hubby appeared in her doorway, with a look of fear on his face I had never seen before. I wanted to jump up and help him, but I knew he had to do this alone. I needed to assess the situation.
Me: What's going on? What happened?
Hubby: She's pooping everywhere.
Me: Well, grab a diaper.
Hubby: I did. It just won't stop. She just keeps pooping.
At this point, I'm laughing my ass off. I wait for everything to calm down and held my ground. He needed to do this himself, without my help.
After a few minutes, Hubby re-entered the room, stunned but calm, so I asked him what happened.
Hubby: I went to change the diaper, like normal. I took off the old one, and was going to throw it away, when I saw her make this funny face, and the poop just started coming. So, I lifted her up real quick, threw the new diaper under her, and let her finish. But it just scared me because she wasn't wearing a diaper, and I've never changed a poopy diaper before. I wasn't prepared for that. I went to change a pee diaper.
Me: (LMAO) Shit happens, right? When did you scream?
Hubby: When poop just started exploding out of her. But, I threw the diaper under her and that's when I popped my head out of the doorway.
Me: Gotcha. Oh, by the way, you always remove the dirty diaper and immediately put the new diaper on. You can throw away the old diaper after you have everything cleaned up and contained.
Hubby: Yeah, I just learned that, thanks.
Hubby's first encounter with the spontaneous diaper change poop, but he did come out victorious...
... until I walked into The Girl's bedroom to assess the post-poop damage. He had survived the actual pooping, but had about 5,000 baby wipes and two diaper pads to show as casualties of war. Oh, well.