On Poop

So much of a mother's life is about handling poo-poo. I've become a bit of a connoisseur. (If this is going to gross you out, read no further. But if you do, remember I warned you!) Will's poo-poo right now looks so much like what went in his mouth. Honestly, it looks like he's pooping sweet potatoes, which is what he's been eating a lot of. I swear, I get a little worried that he's not getting any nutrients, because I open up his diaper and there it is, just like when it was in his bowl.

Of course, it doesn't smell like sweet potatoes. He's past that stage where his poo-poo actually smelled kind of nice, "like buttered popcorn," my midwife says, that mild, mustardy yellow, seedy stuff. The poo-poo that comes out of a nursing infant (after the first few emissions, that is) is almost pleasant - except when there's a "blow-out." Then it's more work for mommy, rinsing out clothes and sometimes having to buy new ones, because that stuff has incredible staining power. They could use it for dyeing things. (I wonder if anyone has ever thought of that. It just came to me.)

The first time a baby poo-poos, though, is not pleasant, and you'd better hope you've greased up his behind, because meconium, as they call it, sticks like tar and looks like tar, too. Doesn't stink, though.

Now, that's just infant poo-poo. I haven't even started in on toddler poo-poo and beyond. I have so many stories I could regale you with, but to keep some decorum, I will just say, here are some questions that have run through my mind at one time or another in the last four years: What is that stuck on the bottom of my foot? What is that little ball my child is playing with in the bathtub? and What is that mess the dog is eating off the floor?

About the dog: when I have to wipe his bottom, that is the last straw. And yet, when it needs doing, I do it; it's the life of a mother. Speaking of, I think I hear that sweet little singsong summons, "Mommmm-eeeeeee, it's time to wipe my boooo-ttommmm!" I'm going back in.