Yesterday I gave Back Seat Boy a bath. He's had a problem with cradle cap pretty much since the day he was born, and I've managed to get rid of most of it with some stuff I bought at Target. However, for some weird reason, after I washed his hair yesterday he had some major dandruff problem. I couldn't let him go out in public like that and we had church last night, so I was trying to think of a way to wash his hair again without having to give him another bath. I didn't want to give him another bath for two reasons: 1--I'm lazy. 2--He has very dry skin already, and another bath would just dry him out more.
Later in the day, Back Seat Girl went down for her nap. Back Seat Boy fell asleep in his car seat while I was reading her stories. He woke up shortly after I laid her down, but was happy to play with his car seat toys, so I left him in there while I did boring house-wifey things. I bent down to talk to him and smile at him and soak up how frickin' adorable he is when he got that look of concentration on his face all babies do when they are about to move their bowels. It was a silent one, and everyone knows they are the worst. The loud ones are all go and no show, but those silent ones are just, well, they make the diapers earn their keep.
After finishing up what I was doing, I picked him up to change his diaper. I was expecting some poop-up-the-back action, but I was not prepared for what I had to deal with. There was poop all the way up his back and pooled in his onesie. Pooled, people. It was disgusting, and I am not easily disgusted. At first I thought I could just take care of it with baby wipes, but after about 8 of them, I realized it was just no use. I was cleaning poop out of his armpits, for crying out loud. Also, let's remember he just turned 4 months old, so I had to prop him up to a sitting position with one hand and try to wipe with the other. Getting his onesie off without doing further damage was impossible, too. I probably should've taken him back to the Dr. to get him weighed again. Obviously he's been holding in some, um, stuff, and his weight on Monday could have been falsely elevated.
Suffice it to say, he got another bath, so his hair was no longer a problem. The best part is that he could've cared less what I was doing. He just took it all in stride, cooing and smiling at me, completely ignoring the fact that he was basically totally covered in poop.
I just realized this blog is really just about feces. Maybe we should rename it "Poop, a story of Bowel Movements", because really, humans are just poop factories.