My Kingdom for a Gas Mask

May 27, 2010

in I Learn the Lessons So You Don't Have To

Every time I start to get some notion of parental superiority in my head, a hint of an idea that my child might just be better than most – that he might be a budding rocket scientist, for instance, – he senses my ego inflating and immediately corrects the situation, usually by hitting himself in the face.  Repeatedly.

So I should have known better.

Seriously.  You’d think I’d have learned by now.

But I must confess, I was starting to wonder what all the fuss was about.  Every parental sitcom involving a small infant (or elderly aunt) includes the oh-so-classic dilemma of “Who Has To Change The Diaper Now?”  And while, sure, I get out of it every possible way I can – it was mostly just a principle thing.  Because the TV said I should.  And because the Big Man didn’t want to.  (Did I mention we were a tad competitive?)  I didn’t actually think it was a big deal.  (Aside from the projectile pooing.)  Sure, I’d been blissed out on Motrin for the first few days of the meconium poo that apparently stuck to everything (that was one bonding experience I let the Big Man enjoy on his own), but since then it hasn’t seemed that bad.  It hasn’t been that messy.  Most of the time.  And really not stinky, as long as I don’t take a fart to the face.

Surely this could be taken as a sign of my child’s brilliance?  I mean really, his shit just didn’t stink!  While that may not be a skill demonstrated on the “Baby Einstein” videos, I’ll take it!



Yeah.  That was certainly a pleasant thought.  WRONG.  But pleasant.

Because this week?  We started real food!  And not just the random Twizzler or shrimp.  But RICE CEREAL!  WHICH STILL TASTES JUST AS NASTY WHEN YOU SAY IT ALL EXCITED LIKE THIS!!  (Yeah, that didn’t fool the Little man either)  And while he doesn’t exactly love it, after the first few head-swinging grimaces and attempts to paw it out of his mouth, he does love the fact that it is food.  (Much like his father.)

And now?

His poo?

Is Rank.

The kind of stench that arises from this sweet child’s smooth behind is such that I have considered calling in a gastroenterologist.  Or sewage control.  Because something must have died in there.  Oy vey.

So tomorrow we are taking a very special trip to Target.  To get baby’s first can of Oust.


The Fickle Nickle May 30, 2010 at 6:53 pm

Ugh… the infamous 'nasty-diaper-syndrom'. A mom's worst nightmare!! May the force be with you:) xo

litlsuzzy May 30, 2010 at 12:20 pm

Nothing is worse than a baby boy's diaper. Except a toddler boy's diaper. My son came equipped with his very own stench that kicked in at 3 months old. He smelled like an old man until he pooped. Then he smelled like an old man that worked in a sewage treatment plant. It only gets worse.

Pieter May 29, 2010 at 5:40 pm

Hey Meg, great stories you tell here, you should write a book, you make something so smelly sound funny 😉 Fortunately (or not), we don't have kids (yet). Maybe one day!

Crystal Escobar May 28, 2010 at 6:42 pm

now that is hilarious!!! I HATE the diaper changing once they start eating real food. YUCK!!!

Domesticated Gal May 27, 2010 at 7:32 am

um, what kind of green beans do you eat??
although now that I think about it, you are right – his early gas did smell of green beans.
which i may now never be able to eat again.

The Empress May 27, 2010 at 6:30 am

Oh, I LOVE the smell of baby gas. IT's like green beans.

I know, I'm a sorry woman.

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