MAS, like a lot of preemies, was anemic in the beginning. He even had a blood transfusion at 30 weeks gestation, two weeks after he was born. And several rounds of some drug I've since blocked out that stimulated his bone marrow to produce red blood cells. And he's been on iron supplementation ever since and will be for his first year.
Iron, as we all know, slows your system down. And so it is with MAS. He only poops about once or twice a week, which to be honest I'm grateful for. Granted that poop is always a massive black mess, but he's not constipated nor in pain.
Here's the thing, though: the bigger he gets the bigger those weekly poos get.
This morning? He had a full diaper and so, when I saw what I was dealing with I called The Husband in from the other room for reinforcement. (Despite having two cats and a 6 month old, poop frankly grosses me out.) As we were both cleaning MAS off--and before a new diaper could be secured--he projectile pooped all over the room.
Poop everywhere! On a pile of freshly laundered sleepers! On a towel! On the goddamn window folks!
Ack! Ack! Ack!
MAS, though, seemed pretty pleased with himself, smiling and giggling away.
MAS, the previous afternoon, shows no sign of the coming storm. And yes, that's a Sophie giraffe he's holding, hip toy du jour.
