Baby Bop is enjoying Hanukkah and enjoyed Christmas more than I realized until this morning’s diaper change.
Everyone recommends getting babies on a schedule. Sounds wonderful to me, but someone needs to convince Baby Bop. Morning wake-up time tends to be 5am. If I’m unlucky it’s 4:30am. If I’m really lucky it’s 6am.
This morning Baby Bop slept until 6:30am. A Hanukkah miracle. I put her on the changing table and open her diaper. My heart stops.
There’s a large red blob in the middle of her poop. She’s dying. She’s hemorrhaging out of her butt. What do I do? I glance at her face. She’s smiling, babbling and chewing on a stuffed bunny. Maybe she’ll live.
I examine the red blob. I’m going to have to pick it out of the diaper. I go for it. This is love. Now I understand how not so long ago, when I was already an adult, my mom helped me get a stool sample that I was too squeamish to myself.
I hold the red poopy blob between my fingers. Wrapping paper! Merry Christmas to me.
Captain also wants to hold it. He agrees with me. Wrapping paper. He asks,
“When did she swallow that?”
Good question. Baby Bop?
She’s not owning up to anything. Maybe there will be blue blobs in her poop tomorrow.