I'm putting that on my business card.

Me at 1:30: "Fletcher hasn't pooped in a day. He's going to poop when you guys are on the road this afternoon."

Andy at 2:30: "You are a poop psychic."

Phantom Pooper

I'm not the first one to use the phrase "Phantom Pooper," but I am ascribing it a new meaning.

Angela wrote:

By which she meant:

Fletcher has had this problem too, where we expect an apocalyptic diaper and it turns up nothing. However, I must postulate that there is a worse phantom-pooping scenario. The opposite of her definition, in fact.

Yesterday morning, I was given no warning. No grunts or holding of breath, no red face (what I call "poop face") or change in expression at all. No smell, even.

But poop he did, and I'll never know what length of time had passed before I noticed. Thirty minutes? An hour?  However long it took for the mess to spread to the four corners of the diaper and BEYOND.

My kid poops like this guy.

I don't actually know how Billy Zane poops.

I washed my hands at every opportunity yesterday, and I still feel dirty.

I fear that the surprise diaper is becoming a trend, though this was the worst one due to no smell warning. Time to feed him broccoli and beans?

teamwork

The fallout of a baby with a cold, ear infection(s), and eye infection taking two doses of amoxicillin per day, is the diapers. I think the medicine may have worsened that part of his cold.

While I was beginning my Thursday (getting out of the shower this morning), Andy was ending his Wednesday (getting home from work around 6 a.m.). The daddy-baby bonding time was cut short by a dirty diaper of such epic proportions that I was recruited to help. Stark naked.

Want to know how far up his back the poop went? Sure you do. His neck. I think we even found some poop in his hair.

Nothing finishes off a shower better than nakedly attempting to wipe down a squirmy baby who's wearing a poop coat.

As the only one who wasn't naked in this scenario, Andy did say he felt left out.

This time, Andy and I worked together and no one threw anything. He wasn't inefficient or questioning. I was thorough and not temperamental. Still naked, I got Mr. Squirmy into a new pair of pajamas. Andy faced the task of cleaning out the disgusting old pajamas and doing a load of laundry.

Crisis over, I was able to finish getting ready for Thursday, Andy was able to wind down from Wednesday, and Fletcher was able to take another dose of medicine, which will surely keep our lives interesting.

a future in haircutting, I have not

I'm Too Sexy For My Diapers {5 months old}

Here is the official five month photo, featuring Huggies Denim Diapers and baby's new quilt, handmade by cousin Taylor...



However, a different photo caught me. Lately, his eyes blow me away.



Or perhaps I should leave it to the professional. This photo is courtesy Songbird Photography.