Pissed

This post was originally going to be an outlet for me to vent my frustrations with the dog. I've logged far too many hours trialling different upholstery and carpet cleaners, even Febreeze, to both clean and mask the smell of urine that has recently permeated our house. I can't very well complain to Alex, as he would vote to get rid of Gizzy quicker than a heartbeat, and while I am indeed at my wits end, I love this dog. But, my idea for this blog took a turn this afternoon, following an "incident." Really, who am I to throw stones at a glass house? Let me digress ...

As I was finishing up the "3 Week" post earlier this afternoon, I remarked that I felt my baby girl make an adult-sized fart, and that it sounded squidgy. This was good news, as I've been a bit worried about her recent lack of regular poos. She seems to be feeding well, but has not been producing the recommended 3 to 4 quarter-sized dirty diapers. Instead, she shits every other day, and only once, in major blowout fashion. So each time she farts, which is really pretty often, Alex and I get excited and peek inside her baggy diapers (seriously, even the newborn-size diapers are too big?!?) Following the squidgy fart, Alex took Francie upstairs, and shouted joyously as he unveiled his discovery. I, ever the curious one, told him to wait for me, because I wanted to see the size of this mess.

Good lord, she definitely made good for all those missing quarter-poops. We're talking more like a Benjamin here. But alas, I spoke too soon. Before we knew it, her tiny brown starfish began to ooze twice as much seedy liquid poo. Seriously, it seeped out of her skinny bum like hot lava, and began to drip down her back while Alex and I tried frantically to minimize the damage to her onesie and the changing table linens. Then, out of nowhere, she shoots out a small laser of poop. We crack up. And then, I shit you not (pun intended), she PROJECTILE POOPS, almost hitting Alex in the face, but instead all over his arm. It had both distance and arc. I can't control myself, literally. I begin to laugh hysterically, and before I know it, I am wetting my pants. Seriously, a full bladder sort of accident. I soak my underwear, the crotch of my pants, and even drip pee onto the nursery hardwood floor as I rush to the bathroom. Guess my pelvic muscles have not yet regained their strength after the trauma that is childbirth.

Point being, I can't very well write-off Gizzy for peeing in the nursery when I go and do the very same thing.

I hope this doesn't qualify as some sort of sick and twisted baby porn as far as the Internet is concerned, but I didn't feel words did her poo justice. Here is photographic evidence of the original dump, the one that did indeed land in her diaper. Let's just say, she produced some 3x as much in the course of the "incident," including the projectile poo. And for those of you who don't yet have children, this is what baby shit looks like - a bit like melted Butterfinger.