12 days

The baby decided to stop pooping 12 days ago. She seems happy, but 12 days? The phone calls and interventions began on day 9. I, of course, get the honor of ... it's a blog, right, Too Much Information is the whole point ... the honor of inserting things where things are not meant to be inserted. Nobody likes this. Not me. Definently not the baby.

And the result was very disappointing. Mary didn't even want to count it as a Poop. I told her that if I did that in my pants, it would count. She still wasn't convinced.

So last night and today the baby started to actually act unhappy - up until now, she seemed oblivious to the rebellion in the far reaches of her bowels. Now she was making new squeaky noises that were not cute and trying to pop her feet through the bottom of her footied pajamas every few minutes.

So off to the doctor they went. And back they came an hour later with supplies for daddy: purple non-latex gloves and some ketchup packets full of lube. Suit up daddy! Luckily for me, and certainly for the baby, there was no need for a performance of "where is thumbkin" by the purple man quartet.

"She pooped!!! Come look!!"

Just another typical dinner conversation around here.