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Baby Blowout Story #3: White Trash in Luxury Paradise

May 23, 2012 2 comments
My first son is the most flexible little child I have ever encountered when it comes to being able to take him out to stores, stay up late, sit in restaurants, etc.  He almost rarely throws a tantrum, and when he does it lasts about 7 seconds before he calms down and moves on to something else that makes him happy.  That is a fantastic thing for a couple like us – we found that having one child really wasn’t that different from having no children.  We still went out as much as we wanted and pretty much wherever we wanted.  It was that freedom that would ultimately lead to one of the most shameful moments of my life – and one of the awesomest.
 
It all took place at our local upscale mall.  We were walking around enjoying a beautiful summer day, looking at stores and pretending we had the money to buy stuff.  We passed by a Tiffany’s and I joked about going in to see how much it costs to get something there.  We wandered in and fortunately it was packed, so no one was there to hassle us or stare us down for bringing an infant into the store.  I carried my son – he was only about 5 months at the time. 
 
My wife was browsing the rings and had found herself entranced by some very large gems.  She flagged down a salesman and tried it on.  It was beautiful and I was momentarily transfixed by its shininess.  It was in the moment that I sensed something aweful had occurred.  I didn’t quite know what it was, but the feeling was strong and came from the deepest caverns of my intuition.  I looked down and saw a brown mush dripping down my arm.  My heart stopped for a minute as I realized I was victim of a full on blow out – but how bad was the damage?  My eyse followed the trail of dump as it dripped down my arm, onto my stomacy, all over my chest, and ultimately all over the store’s carpet in gigantic plops. 
 
I grabbed my wife’s arm – “we gotta problem honey.”  Her response was that the ring wasn’t as expensive as I would think. It was then her eyes followed mine down toward the ground and she shrieked.  The saleswoman also saw it – and pointed to the back where there was a bathroom.  We ran, me holding the child tightly to my chest to avoid any additional spillage.  Once in the bathroom, I took of all my clothes and soaked them in the sink.  Then we strippd our son naked and soaked his clothes.  About 15 minutes later I was re-dressed in my soaking clothes and my son was wearing nothing but a diaper.  We sat in there a bit longer and strategized our exit.  Finally we agreed – let’s just run.  So we flung the door open and ran out, passing the manager the floor scrubbing the stained carpet with a rag. The store was empty – my son’s butt had cleared the entire store.  
 
A few months later I returned to the store incognito, wearing sunglasses and a hat.  I had to know what had happened to the carpet.  As I approached the rings, I noticed a large circle that was faded where my wife had been standing.  I then followed several more circles leading toward the bathroom.  I guess that ring was never meant to be. 

Baby Blowout Story #2: The Triple Threat!

May 2, 2012 1 comment

This story comes from long time reader, first time writer who I will call D Fresh.  While not a “blowout” story per se, it captures the spirit:

I was in San Diego working.  My wife and two twin sons were all sick.  One of the boys never pukes but the other and his mother are hardcore pukers at the drop of a hat. While the two boys are playing, the easy-puke son threw up on himself and his brother.  My wife was obviously disgusted and threw the boys in the bathtub to get clean.  A sensible thing to do for a mom, right? 

Soon she hears them laughing and doesn’t think much about it. She goes in to check on them and the other son had pooped in the bathtub, which he was doing every four out of five trips to the bathtub at this point in his life. This time, they had put the poop in each other’s hair and were laughing every time they put on another piece. My wife was super-disgusted and throws them into the shower in the other bathroom. She figured she’d shower with them for craziness containment and efficiency of cleaing them up. As soon as she gets in, she gets overwhelmed with the smell of poop, already being nauseous, and hurls on both boys. To review, we went from one puking on two, then gelling each other’s hair with poop, to mom puking on both of the boys. The power of smell is amazing.

Baby Blowout Story: #1

May 1, 2012 2 comments

Get ready for a week-long dedication to baby blow out stories here on He Shat, She Shat!  As parents, we recognize how much fecal matter becomes a part of your life.  We will share with you our stories and hope you will share yours in the comments section:

It was a lovely trip to the zoo with my 9 month old.  I love this age because they are old enough to really get the excitement of things and are no longer floppy and boring.  Given this recent musculature development in my child I was able to do things I could never do before like carry him in one arm while he was upright, extend him over the younger elementary school children so he could see the Polar Bears, and of course, to ride him on my shoulders.

The ironic thing is that when it happened I was actually ducking for cover as a flock of geese had let loose a bombardment of excrement my way.  As it was a warm summers day and my propensity to sweat were both in full force I didn’t think anything of it for a few moments.  You would have thought that the smell would have triggered my brain but as many of you may know breastfed babies poo really does not smell at all.

It wasn’t until I felt it running down my collarbone and belly that I realized something was wrong.  The blowout was occuring upon my neck and, being a concerned father, I had baby squished right against me as to prevent any possible falling.  The waterfall of yellow seed blowout diarrhea poo was upon me, covering my entire torso and neck.

Aside from the misery of the lengthy trip home, wiping myself off with diaper wipes in a public place, and the knowledge that I was a terrible replacement for a diaper at least I can take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only thing that was shat upon that trip.  Wifey got a hairful of goose!

Brotip #1735 – Answering a Toy Phone

April 23, 2012 1 comment

Let me give you a tip from a brand new parent of two little boys (coming direct from www.brotips.com): 

That is about as true as a statement as you’ll ever read – here on He Shat She Shat or anywhere else.  If you are the kind of male that won’t play pretend with your kid when he/she hands you a toy phone, you can go ahead and consider yourself a sucky parent.  Period.  If you are that person, there is still hope for you – but it is going to require that you don’t be such a piece of crap and learn to actually care about something other than yourself.  You up for the challenge?

Pregnancy Made Me Do The Sickest Thing I Have Ever Done…

April 6, 2012 6 comments

Not the sickest thing I have ever done.  I personally have never done anything as sick as the story I am about to tell.  A relative recently had a baby (who is freakin’ adorable, I might add).  She toughed out the labor and delivery like a champ without any epidural.  Unfortunately, there was some ripping.  My guess is there was a lot of ripping, and tearing, and stitches.  If any of you have had a wife have a baby, or given birth yourself, then you know that the weeks following birth are a bit sensitive.

Enter constipation.  The crappy thing about giving birth and pregnancy is that it puts your body out of whack in a major way.  This woman, who was already proned to constipation, became über constipated.  One day she called me, only to have this conversation:

Relative:  “I’ve been doing the sickest thing I have ever done.”

Me:  “What’s that?”

Relative:  “You know how I have been really constipated?  Well, I didn’t want to push to hard and pop a stitch, so I just decided to reach up there and pull the poo out.”

Me:  “So are you telling me you stuck your finger up your butt and dug your crap out?  Was it squishy?”

Relative:  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.  It wasn’t squishy though.  It was so hard that my finger barely made a dent in each nugget.  I had to dig in there all the way up to my knuckles to get something out.  I have actually done this about five times!  No matter how many times I wash my hands after, but finger smells like poo!”

Me:  “Why don’t you wear rubber gloves?”

Relative:  “AH CRAP I didn’t think about that!”

Seriously.  She has been digging her crap out with her bare fingers.  It is amazing what having a baby will cause you to do, all for the love of a child.  I wasn’t judging though – I could see her predicament.  I’m just glad I have never had to do anything that nasty.

Pooping During Pregnancy – Not Just a Wives Tale

March 23, 2012 1 comment

I’ve been thinking about pregnancy and giving birth a lot recently – not because I am giving birth (I am male), but because my wife will be doing it soon with our second and a close relative just squeezed out a baby within the last few hours.  What a glorious moment!  I remember when my first son was born, I was entranced just staring into his dark, black eyes as he fixed his vision on your face where he could hear your voice.  It was a magical 30 minutes before the little guy got tuckered out and went to sleep.

But not all elements of giving birth are glorious, including taking a huge, fat dump while you are pushing that sucker out.  You don’t believe me?  Well, its true.  Check out this quote from a Parent Dish article regarding labor fears

“What people who have never had a baby need to know is that pushing out a baby is exactly the same as pushing out the biggest BM of your life. You are using all the same muscles to bear down on the baby.  It makes sense that other, uh,  stuff (besides a baby) is going to work its way out of your body”

Yep people, its true.  While giving birth, you may just squirt out a gigantic thud of a doogan all over the floor.  While this article tends to make it sound like its no big deal…they are sugar coating it.  Taking a duke in front of everyone is crazy.  If at all possible, take a duke as close to going into the hospital as possible.  But if it can’t be avoided, try to laugh it off by saying “ah crap” or something.  Maybe it will deflect the reality that you just dumped in a nurse’s hands.

Potty Training – My Greatest Parenting Fear

March 12, 2012 6 comments
I’m terrified of potty training.  Of all the new and terrifying experiences that come with having a child, the one I am most terrified of is potty training.  I remember growing up and having a friend who was “that kid.”  Yes, Ritchie was five and still peed his pants.  I remember sleeping over at his house in a fort we had made.  Half way through the night it smelled so grotesquely of piss that I had to leave the fort and sleep on the cold floor in the opposite corner of the room to escape the smell.  How did that happen to him?  Was it poor potty training? 
 
I have a theory that you have a very small window when a child is ready to be potty trained.  If you start earlier than that window, then you spend the next 3-12 months cleaning up piss and fecal matter from sheets, floors and blankets.  Endless loads of laundry and disrupted sleep.  But if you let the window pass, you end up with a kid who decides that there is no need to be potty trained – that pissing himself will be an acceptable lifestyle for life.  Only the terrible tauntings and wrath of evil little 5-year-olds will change that kids mind.  Until then, its urine city. 
 
So how do you nail it right in the middle of that precious window?  Given my son’s background, I’m thinking that window might last about 42 seconds instead of a few weeks.  I am waiting for the day he says, “I need go potty” and I am going to jump on that crap immediately.  I have this feeling he is going to only ask once…and that’s it. 
 
Seriously, if you have any potty training tips, I’m an empty receptacle waiting for your knowledge donation.