bodily FUNctions

Motherhood changes your opinion of what is disgusting. I had always believed that a mother’s saliva was a combination of 409 and WD-40, but it really transcends beyond that. Suddenly I’m evaluating bodily secretions with varying levels of charm, and retelling the stories to my husband as though he missed a major milestone. (Not to mention how unaffected I am to go out in public with a little spit-up on my shirt.)

Newborn vomit varies in consistency from watery drool to cottage cheese. Somehow the cheese curds are what amaze us the most, and we find such joy in wiping up said spit-up. I guess I’m jealous that I can’t create such cool secretions, and when I do send out liquids from my mouth, it doesn’t make me giggle.

Now as for what comes out the other end . . .

The coolest blowout of all time covered my son’s legs, my legs, my stomac (and of course went through all layers of my clothes.) His onesie, however, had not one drop, seed, or curd on it. How he bypassed the onesie but covered me was amazing.

The blowout to end all blowouts was one that was very deceptive. We had been out and about in the car, and with all the hustle I didn’t hear the trademark sound of my son defecating. When my stepmum helped him escape his carseat and passed him to me she commented that he was wet. He was more than wet (although if he had been more wet the coating would have started to separate from the rest of the diaper) with a blowout that went through all layers. Of course my son was amused as I carefully tried to undress him without spreading the soupy mustard. It amuses me the most that what comes out that end is the same colour as his hair, and he and I have great laughs during diaper changes.

Nothing compares to soupy, mustardy, curdy, newborn, breastfed poo. And you haven’t really lived until you’ve scrubbed it out of a thick-wale corduroy.

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