The Inevitable Poop Post

Babies start out as little poop machines. When Cleo was first born, she ate about every two hours, and pooped almost as often. Now that she's a burly almost-four-months, that has slowed to once or twice a day, with the increase in volume that you might imagine would come with that decrease in frequency. It was still manageable, though, and we were unconcerned with the change in her habits.

Until.

As of yesterday afternoon, it had been a solid two and a half days without any activity. Every diaper change felt like handling a grenade whose pin had been pulled. We started dressing her pre-emptively, with a mind to slowing the inevitable explosion. This meant a long sleeved, high necked onesie, plus long pants, plus a hooded jacket. It was in this state (and outfit) that I handed my daughter over to my parents and went out for a few hours. It was a testament to their love for Cleo that they took her, and it was a testament of her love for them that she waited to let loose until ten minutes after they'd gone home.