New Meaning of the Term Diaper Change

Having a baby boy comes with one warning label that "old" moms stress to new moms: getting peed on.

LittleMan, Ansel my 1 month old, has mastered the art. As a precaution, I always lay a washcloth over his "area" as to point the pee down and not up. However, LittleMan believes he is a ninja and his penis will find a small window of opportunity to lash out; start the stream. His best performance by far was a stealth mission: I was changing his diaper in the nursery, as I've done a hundred times, when all of a sudden I felt something warm hit my knee, my knee? A stream of pee came over the side of the changing table like a sprinkler, ran down my leg and puddled onto the floor. He managed to stay completely dry in the process. Thanks for the bath LittleMan, but now I need a real shower. (I changed my clothes, wiping myself down with a baby wipe, the mom shower)

However. The point of this post is about more than pee. I would've preferred there to only be that familiar bodily fluid in this instance. LittleMan has inherited my stomach issues; I do not want to label them reflux or GERD as our pediatrician has not diagnosed him of such. Bowel movements and constant gas are his curse. We tried gas drops and have turned to gripe water (godsend). Next is completely changing my diet to bland mush.

One fateful afternoon, with Ansel trying his best to  get some stomach relief, I went to change his diaper. With the diaper a little wet, I began the routine process. I pulled up his legs and butt by his ankles, WHAM! Like a geyser, projectile poop came flying out of him, landing across the end of the changing table and hitting the side of the dresser near by, running down it. PROJECTILE POOP. By the look on his face of astonishment and content, I wasn't sure if I should cry because of the mess or applaud him. How does such a tiny human produce so much projectile poop? I didn't know babies could do that. But he wasn't finished. Almost as soon as we both had processed what just happened, the washcloth over his area, his clothes, and the changing pad cover got wet. Thank God it rained under the washcloth. I couldn't help but start laughing. We now put a washcloth under him too, just in case.

Now, when I said he got my stomach issues, I meant it. LittleMan's ninja, I was a banana. When I was a newborn, I had jaundice and had to sleep naked in an incubator at home for awhile. One day my grandfather picked me up out of the bed and I projectile pooped all over the wall of the incubator and room. My mother hinted to it being like the vomit scene in The Exorcist. From then on, my nickname was "Squirt".

LittleMan got Cody's handsome outsides and my sensitive insides. Cody's good looks and my bowels. Great.