A Public Service Announcement

When the parents of boys learn that you're expecting a baby boy, especially as the baby's birth nears, they issue a standard warning: "Be careful when you change his diaper! He's likely to pee on you!" These words have continually echoed in our ears at each diaper change, and thankfully, we've avoided Levi's sprays.

Most parents also think to warn you about holding a baby in the air over your face. Some have been the unfortunate targets of ill-timed spit-up, and they wish to save you the horror of that experience.

Not one person in nine months warned me about projectile poop! I didn't know it was possible, and I might not have believed it, had I not been the unfortunate target of Levi's three times over the last month.

The first time, we were at Mary's Lake Lodge, a nice restaurant and hotel near the ranch. It was Levi's first outing to restaurant, and near the end of the meal, he needed a change. He returned to the table with a fresh, clean diaper, and I returned with dirty jeans.

I knew about projectile poop then, so Rob and I developed a strategy: Don't change a diaper after the first shot. Rather, wait several minutes to see if he fires again. Levi rarely fires just one shot.

Yesterday afternoon, I heard Levi fire a shot. I waited for further rounds, and hearing none, I proceeded with caution. I put him on the changing table and opened up his diaper. Then, Levi threw a curveball: diaper rash. Distracted, I dropped the protective diaper wall I usually maintain, and grabbed the Desitin cream. I leaned over, carefully applying cream to the entire area, when it happened: he fired an 18-inch stream of poop that would have hit me in the eye, had my lightning-fast reflexes not saved me.

Pale and shaking, I called out to Rob for backup. He came and helped me clean up the mess, which included several previously clean diapers in the basket at the end of the changing pad. We laughed, hardly believing what had just happened.

Last night, Levi woke me up, announcing that he had a wet diaper. Again, I carried him to the changing table, expecting an easy change. I was sliding the new diaper under his little body when I heard a faint rumble. This time, I maintained the diaper wall and avoided another disaster.

Let this post serve as a warning to all of you who were previously unaware of projectile poop. It is real, and it is nasty. Constant vigilance is your only defense.

Lynda