Mac pooped. It was a lot of poop. The gold and yellow, mildly pungent, creamy yet grainy substance decided it necessary to make its way out of Mac’s diaper; tantamount to squishing an overripe plum in your hand, the bodily excrement oozed out, spreading in all imaginable directions. Bowel movement; yes, definitely a movement. The movement began to spread like hot liquid magma bursting out of the earth. The lava poop rushed down with the force of gravity, staining everything in its path. The poop lava moved with such force, it exited the diaper and penetrated straight through the attempted protective layers of clothing. Not one layer, but two. As the poop came into contact with the clothing, its movement slowed, and neared a halt. Just then, Mac decided it was time to investigate. He kicked, punched, squirmed, and made all the acrobatic motions a newborn can. As you can imagine, this gave the poop that extra push to finish its smearing mission… Body poop-paint; with clothes, blankets, and the like. All gold and yellow, mildly pungent, creamy yet grainy… Covered with poop!
It was time for a bath; standard issue baby wipes would not suffice. To the tub we went. Kelli attended to the ever proud Mac, while I tore open the box containing the newborn/infant bath tub. I washed it clean and attempted to discern what all of the parts could possibly be for. I thought I purchased a bath tub, not two plastic half tubs that apparently connect into one, a bike ramp looking baby bath hammock of sorts, a frog shaped sponge larger than Mac himself, a pitcher, and a cloth. After everything was in order, I determined that the hammock inside of the now put together miniature tub would be the best attack. I filled the tub, slightly, and added some baby body wash (Side note for Ben: Axe is bad and should never be used, especially with newborns, let alone teenagers and grown men). Mac’s feet hit the water first and I saw the cry begin to escape. I quickly laid Mac on the hammock, immersing the lower portion of his body and partially soaking his back in the water. It took all but three seconds for Mac to stop crying. The cry, his way of communicating that the sensation was odd, was gone. Mac then looked up at Kelli and me and gave us his approval. He was well enjoying the hot water and special attention from mom and dad.
I gave Mac a good wash and all evidence of the poop was gone. Mac enjoyed every second of the bath, only smiling and looking; not a whimper. I am confident that Mac anxiously awaits another date with his tub. Enjoy the pictures in the Week 3 Photo Album!