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The Great (Poop) Escape(s)

My son’s first poop was a joyous celebration! My wife and I cheered and gave each other high-fives. We were so excited to see proof that his insides were working properly. We were jumping for joy to have a concrete and visible reason to cover his bottom with that drawer full of diapers. We laughed with glee each time our little man filled his pants with a special surprise and got a satisfied look on his face. This feeling of joy, however, has changed.

Kyle Conway

In the past two weeks my son has been having a problem with his diapers. When the satisfying sounds of bowel movements originate in my son he is the only one with a smile on his face. My wife and I now treat our son like a ticking time bomb when certain sounds come from him. He becomes a living hot potato that we desperately try to get rid of when his “alarm” goes off.

The reason for this somewhat exaggerated ill-treatment of our son is that his poop is no longer staying inside of his diaper. He has pooped on me, his mother, and the floor. He has pooped on himself, his clothing, and his changing table. My wife now spends time scrubbing out his cute little outfits in the bathtub while I change the aftermath of the explosive oozing out of his diaper.

Our attempts to try different diaper sizes and brands has not yet led to a solution. I think we’ve tried a new brand or size each week. Luckily our son still fits into the variety of newborn sized diapers we inherited from friends who have recently had children outgrow those sizes. Our latest attempt failed today when my son let loose all over a baby swing a friend had loaned to us. My wife was spraying poop out of the plastic latches. There is one thing I can say for certain: we’re very glad we have tile and wood floors instead of carpet in the new place.