Wednesday, January 15, 2003


Stacey Greenberg

I spend an amazing amount of time thinking about Satchel’s poop. Just ask my friends.

One of the first things Satchel did was poop. A nice, round ebony turd. When he was under 3 months old and purely breastfed, his poop required little thought. It was a given. He was going to squirt out some mustard several times a day with the occasional split pea soup and/or canned spinach offerings. Every diaper was a dirty diaper. (They weren’t stinky though, which was a nice little bonus.)

Around 5 months when Satchel started eating solids, his poop started stressing me out. He stopped going several times a day and only went once or twice a week. This took its toll on the poor guy, and we had a few really rough nights. The first time he went four entire days without pooping I very nearly became obsessed.

Satchel’s first “adult like” poop happened at 7 months. Warren was getting the bath ready and I began cheering Satchel on when I saw his “poop face”. When I undressed him I saw a little brown ball in his diaper. Since it was actually solid I figured that was it. We went ahead with our regularly scheduled program. As usual, Warren stood Satchel up in his little inflatable tub so he could pee over the side. Instead, a little brown “snake” flew out of his bootie into his bath. Hysteria ensued. What was that? What do we do? How do we get it out? (Think pool scene in “Caddy Shack.”)

I came to the rescue by fishing the “snake” out with my bare hands and wrestling it into the toilet. We had barely recovered from the actuality of this when we realized round three was coming. Warren swiftly transferred Satchel from the tub to the potty and before we knew it, he pooped in the potty. We were so proud. So happy. So excited!

Our enthusiasm waned however when Satchel burst into tears. I think the whole thing was a bit much for him.

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