An Entire Post about Poop

Abbie has diarrhea. Thankfully it’s not the “strap on a diaper, stand back, and hope it holds because a tsunami of liquefied baby poo could be coming at any second” kind. It’s more of a “strap on a diaper and check it frequently because something is coming, and one diaper ain’t gonna hold it” kind, which is bad enough. She’s not pooping any more frequently than normal or even at weird times, just her standard one to three times per day after meals schedule. This diarrhea just consists of super watery, and stinky, poop instead of those nice firm poos that peel off and clean up easily for trouble-free ammunition suitable for chucking at cars, if desired. Super watery poop isn’t a problem by itself, per se,* but it does tend to overflow the diaper, like two-pounds of sausage stuffed into an Olson twin, which makes changing her extremely exciting. It’s not easy pulling a onesie off a wriggling child without letting one bottom corner touch anything because dear lord it’s everywhere.

I’ve been trying to determine the source of the diarrhea, but not having much luck. I have a feeling that it’s somehow tied to the Sioux City daytrip we just completed. Ellie’s dad was sick with a stomach bug when he saw her, and even though he was barely around her, she could have caught something from him, or any of the myriad of strangers she saw that day. I really doubt that she has any sort of bug, though. She seems to be acting fine, no crankier than usual, and no fever. More likely I think the diarrhea is stress related. What kind of stress could a 14-month-old experience? Feeling separation anxiety from her toys? Missing her tight deadline for talking? Worrying about her lack of money? For starters, she spent more than six hours that day strapped into her car seat, plus probably another hour strapped into various chairs for meals. Constraining movements for that long everyday would cause stress for anyone, as reflected in the Geneva Convention, which limits high chair usage to two hours per day. Then there’s all the crying she did that day. This wasn’t the everyday crying to signal “I’m bored” or “I’m hurt” or “no, really, I’m hurt, I think it’s broken” that I’ve come to know and ignore. This crying mostly signaled, “I’m terrified,” as we continuously and cruelly subjected her to her grandparents and the stranger anxiety kicked in. She really needs to overcome this hang-up before offending her grandparents and ruining any possibility of future spoilage. She also cried solid for the last 20 minutes of the car ride home, but I still don’t know what that signaled. My best guess is “I’m sleepy,” though that would conflict with her behavior once we arrived back home, which was to run into her room and read quietly by herself like a little angel until we drug her to bed screaming. She may have been saying “I’m hungry” since we gave her her bedtime milk an hour late, but she showed little interest in her milk and left half of it in the cup like she was some sort of Olson twin. Maybe she was saying “I need to poop, but I refuse to do so in this sodden diaper” because she pooped as soon as we changed her into her overnight diaper, a very unusual occurrence. I suppose that holding it in like that could also cause diarrhea, so maybe it’s in some small way my fault that she’s dropping a mudslide in her diaper.

Whatever the cause, I hope she recovers quickly because I’m getting tired washing her clothes every time a diaper leaks, which is every time she’s pooped the last couple of days. I’ve started digging into the crummy clothes I bought for her at rummage sales because I don’t want to risk ruining a decent outfit when the poo surges past the protective elastic and dear lord it’s everywhere.

* “Per se” literally translates to “not a problem.”