Tag Archives: Poop

The 4 Levels of Diaper Change

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Earth Tone Number 1

Level One: The Wet Diaper

Degree of Life Interruption:

Minimal.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, possibly some dinner reservations.

Eventual Result:

Remember to add diapers to grocery list. Remind spouse to empty diaper pail.

Earth Tone Number 2

Level Two: The Dirty Diaper

Degree of Life Interruption:

Medium.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, some pants, romance.

Eventual Result:

A bath for the kids.

Earth Tone Number 3

Level Three: The Pooplosion

Degree of Life Interruption:

High.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, pants, shirt, socks, all plans for the following 2 hours, satisfaction with life choices.

Eventual Result:

A bath for the kids, a hot shower with lots of off-market horse soap for the parents, a stiff drink, the lingering possibility of never eating or feeling compassion again.

Earth Tone Number 4

Level Four: The Poopocalypse

Degree of Life Interruption:

Life?? YOU CALL THIS A LIFE?

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, pants, shirt, socks, sheets, wallpaper, toys, and the desire to carry on this pitiable, masochistic existence.

Eventual Result:

Vasectomy.

10 alternative uses for baby wipes

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
4

Baby wipes are one of the great modern inventions.

Jumbo Box of Baby Wipes

As any parent who uses them will attest, the epic abilities of the legendary baby wipe go far beyond simply taking down unimaginable quantities of poo, however . . .

Alternative Uses for Baby Wipes

1. Crime scene cleanup

2. Shower alternative for new parents*

3. Surrender flag for army men battles

4. Air conditioning alternative**

5. Emergency pants!

6. Placebo nicotine patch

7. Effectively use to clean most brands of vomit off of most brands of smartphone screen

8. Makeshift gas mask in the event of a biological warfare attack***

9. Bedding for the Barbie Dream House couch, where Ken is sleeping (again)

-

*(What? You thought you were still going to get to shower every day after having a baby?? LOLOLOL!!).

**Scorching summer day? No air conditioning? Tuck a couple of baby wipes in your shoes for a cool, refreshing afternoon of laying out by the pool doing endless loads of hot, humid laundry and washing mountains of steaming dishes.

*** do not do this****

**** on second thought, if you needed this disclaimer, maybe you should go ahead and do it after all.

_

Poop in the tub

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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That’s right, poop in the tub. It happens. More often than you might have hoped, by the way.

See, this is one of those things that just doesn’t appear in the “So, You’ve Decided to Stop Taking Your Birth Control Pills” brochure.

If you don’t have kids, right now you’re thinking:

“Oh.  My.  God.  That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.  I would have to call someone to come into my house and deal with that or get a hazmat suit. No, I would have to have the tub replaced. No, actually, I’m pretty sure I’d just have to move – find a new place to live – because there’s no effing way I’d ever be having a bath in that tub again.”

But then there are those of you who have kids, who are more likely thinking:

“Meh.  At least it wasn’t on the couch.”


The five stages of a diaper change standoff

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Stage One: Denial

“Nah, it’s not dirty – I think that was just gas.”

“Are you sure?  He’s sort of squirming around and grabbing at his pants . . .”

“It’s just gas.  It HAS TO BE.  I’ve changed 3 dirty diapers already this morning.”

 

 

Stage Two: Anger

“Gosh!  How many times could one baby possibly poop in ONE SINGLE DAY?”

“I mean, seriously!  You’re killing me here, child.  How long until you’re potty-trained, anyway? You’re already eighteen months old.  You know, if you were a lobster you would already have grown up and gone to a good school and found a good job and settled down and had your own lobster babies and wouldn’t even be my problem anymore.”

 

 

Stage Three: Bargaining

“You change him?  Please?  PLEASE!?  I’ll do it all day tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you a THOUSAND DOLLARS.”

“I’ll watch a Gossip Girl marathon with you tonight while discussing the characters during the commercial breaks.  While eating a cake that I will bake for you.  From scratch.  Off of new china that I will buy for you.  Not from the dollar store.  Not even on clearance!”

 

 

Stage Four: Depression

“Lord, why have I done this to myself?  Why have I been forsaken with this Plague of Poo?”

“When will my poopy penance be paid?”

“When will I be released from this poopy purgatory?”

 

 

Stage Five: Acceptance

“Sigh.  All right.  It’s no big deal, right?  It’s just another dirty diaper.  Just one amongst the one hundred and fifty million others.”

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll get this one, you just relax.”

“Oh okay, thanks!  Wait . . . what do you mean by that?”

“Nothing my love, only that you should continue watching football while I change this dirty diaper.  It’s no problem – really!  Can I grab you another beer while I’m up?”

“I’m going to pay for this, aren’t I?”

“Only when you least expect it.”

 

 

I’m not proofreading this post – it grosses me out.

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Our son is at that magical, charming, endearing age where he is not yet old enough to be potty trained, but is plenty old enough to prefer not to hang out with a diaper full of his own filth.

His latest “hinting that he wants to be changed” technique?

Sticking his hand in his diaper, pulling it out and holding it up as if to say “see?  I need to be changed, like FOR REAL!”

(Yes, that was the non-graphic version.  You’re welcome.)

Now, I’m sure some parents will tell you “oh, it’s not disgusting, it’s just a part of being a parent – I really don’t mind, because he’s just such a little miracle and I’m just oh so very blessed that scraping poop off of 4 square feet of baby parts is really not a chore, it’s just a different kind of blessing.”

Those people are known as alcoholics.

In reality, this sort of thing is disgusting on a level that non-parents cannot possibly understand.

Oh no, not in that condescending “OMG you’re not a parent you COULDN’T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND” sort of way.  No no, I know that non-parents could not understand this because if they did . . . if explosive diarrhea was really covered in the “So You Want to Procreate” brochure . . . nobody would ever do it.

No children would be created.

This holiday season’s craze wouldn’t be the Furbee or Tickle-Me Elmo, it would be Mass Vasectomies.

You really want to fuel the abstinence movement?  Forget fear of Hell . . . bring the fear of poo-smearing toddler into the mix and that whole unwanted teen pregnancy thing?  Like, totally solved.