Pooper-scooper for a Day

Because I am not crazy enough to pick up scrapbooking, and because I still want to have memories I can read and see, I try to post often on this blog. In preWarren days, the posts were usually just about me or something Roy and I did, but now, it seems everything is about Warren. Well tonight's post is about poop. Yes, folks, poop.... (Are you sure you want to keep reading?)

I suppose if you are a mom, this may not be so bad, but as usual I am being overly dramatic; it's my nature, and I apparently have passed it on to my adorable niece... but I digress. Back to poop.

Ever since Warren was born, he's had trouble pooping. You may remember reading blog posts about it. Since he started on baby food, though, he has become much more regular, though often his poop is hard and just little balls (are you queasy?). I have discovered when he is having a hard time pooping, that if I push his knees into his chest when I'm changing his diaper, it often helps.

This happened yesterday, but sadly, pushing his knees back didn't seem to help. He didn't seem too bothered by the black hole in his butt (ya, that's what it looked like), so we went about our business. He ate dinner while visiting on the webcam with Grammie and Papa. Then he was messy from dinner, so it was time for a bath. (You see where I'm going with this, don't you?)

I put him in the tub and he was playing like normal, but then he started leaning forward and getting red faced. "Oh, geez," I thought. "It's finally my turn." I had heard stories about this happening, and each time I thought Warren was passed the age when this would happen. Nope.

I caught a whiff of stink. I swished aside some bubbles, and there they were: floating balls of poop. (are you gagging?) I wasn't really sure what to do. I knew I had to get them out, and I really didn't want to crush them or break them up anymore, so I did what I never thought I would be doing - I gently scooped each one out with my bare hand and put it into the trash can. I truly believe poop smells worse once it's been wet. It was bad, and of course I had to stay right next to the tub because Warren was still in it, along with little floating bits of poop (and the carrots, or something orange that accompanied it).

I drained the tub, washed down all the remaining poop, refilled the tub, and continued with Warren's bath like normal. Roy heard me talking about the stink, so he came up and politely escorted the bag of poop to the outside trash barrel.

I was pretty grossed out, and to be honest I can still smell the poop even as I type. I guess it will be a memory-by-association thing. I facebooked about it, but I figured I should add it to my blog, while the details are still "fresh" (LOL), so when I look back on this years from now, I won't forget that I become a pooper-scooper for a day.

Hey, is this one of those embarrassing stories I can pull out for Warren's girlfriends to read, so they get scared away????