The ‘poo life’ it is.
Now you have a newborn, you will find that inspecting, discussing, Googling and comparing human faeces is a perfectly acceptable way to spend your time.
When your partner misses out on a nappy change, a full debrief is held on return. What colour was it? Was it runny? How much was there? How far up his back did it go? How much did you get under your fingernails?
Your baby’s first poo—the Vegemite one—is a sight to behold and one you’ll never forget, but then it changes. It’s yellow and liquid and it has the ability to travel anywhere and everywhere you don’t want it to. Everything you own will end up out in the sun because sunlight is the only thing that gets those stains out (actual tip right there).
I once cut my daughter’s outfit right off her body because the disaster zone was so extensive, I knew there was no other way to avoid giving her a faecal facial.
I’ve since learnt that baby clothes with the envelope neckline are designed so you can pull them down over their shoulders to get them off (second actual tip—I’m on a roll).
But newborn baby poo doesn’t smell as bad as you think it will. All those hilarious videos of men gagging at the unwrapping of a baby turd? LIES.
Babies’ hands. That is the stench you need to know about: the smell of blue cheese wafting from those clenched little fists.
Despite regular baths, babies will become more and more rotten until the day you pry open those tiny clamped hands and find the source of the evil: the unidentifiable white creamy substance inside those paws. How long has it been there? Nobody knows. Since their hands formed in the womb? It’s anyone’s guess, but it’s putrid. And cleaning that stuff out is a chore when those fingers only understand fighting mode. Digging that gunk out of those folds is disgusting and satisfying and necessary.
That other smell? That’s you, babe. That’s the permanent stench of sour milk coming off you.