Warning: You may want to avoid this post if you are the squeamish type
My youngest, who I usually just refer to as “the little baby” (who weighs-in at 25+ lbs., only fits in clothes sized for children 18 months and up, can and has hidden food within his fat rolls and is only 8 months old) seems to have some sort of stomach bug.
Don’t worry; he seems to feel fine, I’ve been keeping him hydrated and he’s been active. I’ve just had to change more diapers in the last couple of days than I usually do in a week, but oh GOD those diapers. Every single one has been a poopsplosion of poopiness.
That’s not exactly what I’m here to talk about though. This is my third child and poop, lots and lots of poop, is something you just learn to live with. I don’t like it but it’s not really a big deal anymore.
What I’m still not used to and probably never will be is finding, lets call them… surprises, in the diaper. Those are the times you open up a diaper and find things that have no business being there.
Such as this very morning when I changed the little baby’s third diaper (at the time of this writing it is 8:15 am and I’ve only been up since 6) and there was set of eyes staring up at me.
A pair of googly doll eyes.
Side by side.
It was like muppet poop. Or I guess maybe a poop muppet. Either way it was disturbing.
And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen eyes in poop.
My middle child, demon spawn, went through a stage when he was a baby where his favorite food was Legos. One day while changing his diaper, there from within the fetid mess it held, I spotted the cold dead eyes of a bodiless Lego head that had obviously seen horrors that no Lego man should ever have to see. I still wake-up in cold chills thinking about it.
Then there’s the random poops I’ve seen: a poop with change (pennies and dimes change, not Obama change), a poop where a postcard got eaten and the poop looked like it was trying to spell out a message to me, and the most terrible of all, the poops that seems like maybe a fifty year-old man snuck in and defecated in your little tiny baby’s diaper when you weren’t looking.
And yet I have to keep on changing diapers, day after day, week after week, just praying that the next one doesn’t hold some new and grotesque surprise from within the dark depths of my baby’s bowels that will haunt my dreams forever…