Poo Face has such a distinctive expression. There is no question, you know what's going on back there. The slightly crossed eyes, watery; the red face; the ultra funny face-spanning 'smile' which is the piece de resistance. The effort put forth through that face also astounds me in the disproportionate nature of what results. The amount of grunting and panting and repeated administration of Poo Face makes me think I'll pick the little fellow up and find a real whopper, only to discover one little shiny boat shaped deposit instead.
This wasn't always the case though. A few weeks ago I started weaning the baby, and because of my previous education via child number 1 and 2, I switched from my washable diapers to disposables in anticipation. There are certain periods of....let's call it....digestive unrest in a baby's life which causes horrific things to happen back there. Weaning is one of those times where you need to prepare for some serious volume and frequency changes. All that new fiber is like a dam on a waterfall....then the dam bursts.
The first digestive unrest in life results from just being born. It is the absolutely vile green Tar Poo phase, a sludge that cannot be removed from anything, the baby's bottom, your hands, your clothes, your hair (GROSS!!!!)... anything touched by this seemingly-developed-by-NASA impenetrable coating needs something akin to paint thinner to get it off. I remember a friend told me she was horrified with her new baby, and thought she really was in for a long haul, when she believed that the vile green tar was it, that's what 'baby poo' was like, forever. I cannot imagine anyone ever having repeat children if that was the case, the stuff is so awful, so sinister. What is a mother to think though, if the concept of baby Tar Poo is not explained as a passing phase? You'd just think 'Hmmmmm. I love this child, and this life of sticky awful poo I have committed to is just part of a Mother's Job, right? Jezuss what kind of monster have I created??!![runs away screaming]'. Consequently she was extremely relieved and pleasantly surprised when the Tar phase ended within a few days.
Mothers are then shocked again by the next poo assault: Mustard Soft Serve. My first dose of this bright yellow ice cream poo occurred while I was at my mum's house visiting with my sister and her husband, and their new baby too. Me, clueless to what might occur, lifted up the baby's legs innocently to change his diaper - and the scene suddenly changed to me standing over a soft serve ice cream machine, pulling the dispensing lever up, and the soft serve just kept coming and coming and coming, and every time the lever was put down and up again the more 'ice cream' flowed. "Help, Help" I yelled for my sister desperately "It won't stop! Get something, anything, quick!". I was holding the baby up in the air now practically on top of his head upside down, as the Mustard Soft Serve swirled in creamy piles beneath him, encroached steadily. I only had one free hand trying to gather the mess, contain it in the diaper (hardly, as if), wipe the baby down, and get some new poo retainment devices. It took all of us in a valiant team effort to contain the situation.
The early month of Mustard Soft Serve 6 times a day mercifully settles to a frequency of once every 3 - 5 days, thus months 1.5 - 5 go by without much trouble. The occasional 'Poonami' occurs (thank you sister for that term) but generally tolerable. Definition: Poonami - a high volume and/or high speed baby poo incident that has the capability to cover an entire tabletop/curtains/wall and any adults present, or for very certain at least the curtains. And the wall.
Once that first spoon of baby rice goes in, though, that's it. Better put on your waterproofs, it's going to get messy. For this phase of digestive unrest I have decided to spare my precious washable nappies from such frequent and dreadful messes. I always actively avoided poos happening in the diapers anyway, I mean, so much so the moment I saw a glimpse of Poo Face I whipped the diaper off and would rather 'catch' the poo rather than let something awful happen in the diaper. I'd lay the baby down on the changing table with a wipe strategically positioned ready as a landing bay. Sounds disgusting? Yes, I know. But even more disgusting is trying to wipe off baby paste from the elasticated furry sides of a washable diaper hanging over a pooey toilet, then putting the pasty diaper into my beautiful clean washing machine. I let the disposable wipe(s) do the talking and walking then. All part of a Mother's Job. So my washables have been benched for a month, taking sabbatical in the bottom drawer while with blissful leisure I thrown on a Huggy. Ahhhhhhh. Such leisure it is, I am actually quite enjoying myself. I feel really spoiled. Well worth the extra cost, because my baby who pooed pretty consistently every 3 days has been transformed into a total poo machine, no exaggeration, 8 - 12 poos a day. And I am telling you, they aren't pretty. In fact they remarkably look and smell pretty much exactly like what went in, it's like nothing happened at all in between.
My baby book advises that pear should be given with the baby rice to avoid constipation. Are you kidding me, lady?? Constipation? More like 35 kids all having a go loading and reloading play-doh into a fun factory, each with a different colour too.
All produced with the hilarious and oh-so-charming Poo Face. It almost makes me look forward to changing all those diapers.
