Friday, March 15, 2013


Since Mrs L's return to work, it is largely my duty to sort Cam out in the morning and ensure his timely arrival at wherever he'll be spending the day.

On the day I am not at work this is blissfully easy. I get up when he does, do the usual morning things, nappy change, feeding, playing, etc. and if I manage to squeeze in a shower for myself then that's great. If not, I hope that no-one gets close enough to smell me.

The main thing is; there are options. Flexibility.

On the days that both me and Mrs L scuttle off to our respective offices things are a little different. Mrs L catches her train at 7am, so needs to be up at 6am. There is little leeway in her routine, so sorting out Cam is pretty much impossible.

I get up at 6:15am.

We creep around, trying our best not to disturb the delicate slumber of our son until seven. A still snoozing son means I get to shower without fear of my shoe being thrown into the bath to keep me company.

The remainder of the morning routine is finely honed. Change the baby. Get the baby dressed. Give the baby his bottle. Make my porridge and leave it to cool a bit. Entertain the baby. Throw work stuff in my bag. Pack bottles into baby's bag. Eat porridge. Bundle baby into car. Leave.

Because I hate being late to arrive at places I know exactly what time all of the above things need to happen in order for me to drop him off and get to work on time.

But there is a problem. Sometimes, the morning throws a curve ball. Routines don't allow for curve balls, but babies show little respect for routine.

This morning, there was a curve ball. Cam had been given his bottle. I was about to start sorting out my porridge when a noise came out of my son. A noise which made me wonder whether perhaps he had somehow managed to swallow an eighteenth century factory during the night.

The sound did not indicate a normal poo. The sound made me fear for my nostrils. I contemplated grabbing the Marigolds prior to dealing with whatever was inside that nappy.

I needn't have worried, since there was as much outside the nappy as there was contained within it.

(Question: when putting on a nappy, do you pull the elasticated leg bits out as far as they'll go, such that the evacuated excreta has the maximum possible room OR do you leave them contracted, in order for them to act as a device to SLOW DOWN the brown projectile as it comes out? Answers on a clean Pampers please…)

You know there's been some significant evil force at work when the poo looks like a Korma and has escaped from both legs and the top of the nappy. When the answer to the (rhetorical, rhetorical!!!) question "has this leaked" is answered by finding a wet patch on each of the baby's feet.

Still. Shit ain't shit. I'm used to this by now. I wrote another post about poo almost a year ago.
The clean up operation is quick. Deftly dealt with. Clean the bits you need to hold first. Assess the cleanliness of the various items of clothing. Remove as necessary (all of them in this case). Don't spare the wipes. Suppress the wince as Cam's (brand new, from his great gran) soft toy is deposited into the nappy while you're not looking. Dry the bum. Apply the Sudocrem. New nappy. New clothes. Wash hands.

Of course, you'd expect this tale to culminate in me being late to drop him off at his grandparents, but I'm a step ahead of the game. I've got enough contingency time for TWO nappy changes built into my routine.

Which will be fine, until the day he needs three.

PS: One poo post every eleven months, that's fine, right?


  1. Teehee! I like having contingency time! They always poo when it's time to go but hell this sounds huge!

  2. You're fantastically well organised! I'm impressed, possibly a little envious! It can't be easy trying to look after a baby when you're both working.

  3. Sometime soon I'm going to have to get 2 babies out of the door and dropped off at childcare on my way to work. Still have no idea exactly how that's going to happen.

  4. A good poo-to-post ratio, methinks and the shoe in the shower thing rings true too. Though in my case it's often my last pair of clean, dry, radiator-warm pants that join me. Basically, contingency time is a must for me too!

  5. Sorted! My wife is shortly about to return to work after a year off. I'm dreading it. That will mean juggling three kids - one at school, two at the same preschoool/nursery - getting me out of the door by about 7:30 and everyone else by 7:50. We've got two weeks of 'dry run' scheduled to work out how the hell we're going to manage this without (a) going mental or (b) being perpetually half an hour late. This could get interesting ...

  6. You are quite possibly the most organised person I know. Can you give me some tips?