"Hooray!" you say. "Another entry with science!"
"Absolutely!" I reply. "More especially -- explosions."
"Wow!" you return. "Petrochemical? Nuclear? Oh the suspense!"
"Haha!" I laugh. "Nothing so mundane. We're talking *poop* explosions. Fascinating stuff."
"Neat!" you say. "I can hardly wait."
"Very neat!" I reply. "I mean... ah... not so much 'neat' as... well. Forget it."
I'm not about to post any photos of the explosions that actually occur in this house, but I did search "poop" in Google images and found a few gems.
(May I suggest you refrain from doing the same.)
Since poop might be a taboo topic in many homes across the world, here are two of my favorite finds, just to loosen you up:
Now that you're broken in, back to the topic at hand.
Over the last three days, we have moved into a new (or perhaps returned to a former) era of massive poop explosions a few times a day.
In discussing the topic with a friend last night, he asked, "Why doesn't the diaper contain it?"
There are several viable answers:
A) If she has already soaked the diaper with urine, there's not much more the diaper can absorb when the poop exits her body.
Keep in mind that healthy kids with TCHD almost always have poop with a wet consistency -- picture anything from eggnog to toothpaste -- dependent partly on diet, length of bowel remaining, and a whole host of other factors.
Mmm... makes you want to brush your teeth, doesn't it?
B) With the force of ejection, there's simply no time for the diaper to absorb the poop before it is squirted out both leg holes, up the front, and up the back of the diaper. (Kind of like this... why can't you put a giant diaper on a volcano? You know, discounting incineration and all.)
C) The volume of poop is simply too much for one diaper to handle, no matter how good Huggies makes 'em.
D) Chances are good that the best explosions are some combination of the above.
Okay, and now a follow-up on the positive ramifications of this elimination change:
1st: Well, I'll take explosions over what we've *been* dealing with ANY day!
2nd: Explosions neither prevent nor preclude the "leaking" we've been experiencing for the last month (two months if you count her preceding illness), but they do seem to slow the flow, meaning fewer diaper changes.
3rd: Fewer diaper changes = less physically and emotionally draining days / nights for both me and Bridgette.
4th: Fewer diaper changes also = bum rash that is healing... finally! It's still there, it's still ugly, and it still fluctuates dependent on the day, but overall she is in a lot less pain.
We hope that less pain will mean less psychosomatic trauma which might, in turn, help speed a return to potty training which should, subsequently, mean even less pain.
5th: If we have the option to wait around the house in the morning, we can time outings *after* the primary explosion and get away with only one or two "minor" changes in public.
6th: That makes everything much, much, much easier. And WAY more fun. Bridgette is almost back to her excitable, adorable, cooperative self. She's more active. She's more interactive. She's also able to concentrate for longer periods of time which means another developmental burst.
(Um, but lest you think otherwise, she still doesn't like to be touched. So, DON'T PRESS YOUR LUCK.)
There are two major drawbacks to these explosions:
1st: Baby gets covered in poop from head to toe.
She is old enough that this really bothers her. Imagine if *you* were covered in poop... in your hair, on your face, on your arms and hands and back and chest... in your pants, of course, but also dripping down your legs. Poop soaking through your shirt, your dress, into your socks, on the bottom of your shoes.
It's desperately sad when she walks towards me, crying real tears, lifting her arms away from her body and saying, "Mommmmmy... no mommmmmy... poooooooop."
2nd: When she walks towards me, the poop drops out onto the floor with giant plop, plop, plops. I spend a lot of time on my knees using Clorox wipes. And I bought a handheld steam cleaner for the carpet.
So far, we have yet to deal with one of these explosions away from home. And while I have regularly been pooped on, she has not had a true explosion while sitting on my lap. Knock on wood. I'd like to keep that record.
I almost wrote a post a few days ago titled, "Mommy Is Tired of Being Pooped On." And frankly, the title would have been sufficient without an entry.
But I have to say, in the last three days I've also managed (mostly) to avoid being doused in excrement. A happy modification! Possible exceptions include a small spray of fecal matter during one change and the simple act of cleaning poop off of Bridgette, floors, furniture, walls, blankets, and clothes.
(We do plenty of laundry, and our shower is well-loved.)
Life has a way of forcing out phobias...
And lest you think we have an irrational preoccupation with poop (who us?), I'd like to end this post with one of Bridgette's new favorite videos.
***Triple Warning to You Sensitive Types!***
*This is weird.
**Definitely depicts poop.
***And shows a cartoon bum.
Bridgette laughs and laughs and shouts, "Pooop! TWO poops!" She also puts her finger to her cheek and says, "Huh?"
I'm sure you will too.