Uuuuughghgh. Abby is so adorable, but why, why, why must she choose to be adorable from 3am to 4:30? Must’ve been that diaper change at 3am. I usually have a strict “no diaper change unless I smell poo” policy between midnight and 6am, but in this case, when I picked her up, I felt something cold, wet and clammy that turned out to be her tush. So. Diaper change –> wake up –> big hole of funny cooing cuteness blasted into my supposed-to-be-sleeping time.
The trouble with writing a blog about a baby? Is that you have a baby. So sometimes the blog makes less than perfect sense. Please excuse the incoherence.
In today’s episode of “am I ruining my child’s life,” and in an effort to complete the terrible stereotype of a new mom, I’d like to further discuss poo diapers. The day before Christmas, I went to the zoo with a mom friend of mine whose husband was gently teasing her about the fact that she goes “GOOD JOB! WOW! WHAT A GREAT POOP!” when she changes diapers.
“It’s because I remember my dad going “ugh, eyuw, disgusting, why did you DO that,” she said. “I felt ashamed and would hang onto my poop too long, so I don’t want her to feel like she’s done something wrong or disgusting.”
I totally get that. I had the same reaction when Penny was tiny. My older stepson Max was standing next to me when she had a mid-diaper-change poop, and he shrieked “That’s disgusting!” “Don’t say that!” I scolded him. “She’ll feel negative about her poop!” Max teases me about that to this day, but I stand my woo-woo ground: It feels bad to be told you just did something disgusting.
Then again, one can go too far with this. When I was in my early 20s and babies were as exotic as opossums, I went to a party where some friends of my older sisters had brought their toddler. He pooped. His mom came in and gave him a doe-eyed, purse-lipped look. “Do you have a chocolate diaper?” she asked, in a Betty Boop voice.
“Wow, he’s going to be surprised when he has his first chocolate cupcake,” I said.
She shot lasers at me with her eyes.
But I mean, come on. Chocolate diaper? That’s just weird, and also inaccurate.
But! On the other hand! As much as I tell Penny and Abby “good job! Wow! What an impressive poop!” I also need to let them know it’s actually also gross. Which, I mean, they instinctively know that, right? Penny stuck her hand down her diaper the other day and got an alarmed look on her face, and came up to me with her poop-covered hand and said “Uh-oh!” I wiped off most of it and whisked her to the sink for a hand-wash before I did a diaper change, and Randy said I was using a high-pitched Woody-from-Toy-Story voice to tell her “It’s great that you pooped but you really don’t want to put that in your mouth NO NO NO KEEP YOUR HANDS AWAY FROM YOUR FACE poop is great in your diaper but JUST IN YOUR DIAPER ok wash wash wash GOOD JOB! Oh god.”
I’ll admit, now that Penny is a toddler, there’s no getting around certain facts, and I don’t mind saying “pee-you, stinky!” in a funny way. I guess the point is to acknowledge that it’s gross without making her feel ashamed or embarrassed.
On the other hand (butt?), I might be overthinking things. It wouldn’t be the first time. Are you careful about how you address your toddler’s poop?