Little In The Middle But She Got Much Back

No longer can I say her shit don't stink. Gone are the days of the mild mustard poops. With the introduction of baby oatmeal, we are entering an era of stank not smelled since my husband last ate an entire carton of raisins in one sitting. Before today, it was always the wet feeling on my leg or the sight of a diaper breach that would alert me it was time for a change. These evacuations were so mild in stench and texture (though not in scope) that even Tolby was not moved by them. She would not cry or become fussy. But no longer. If her uncomfortable wails had not warned me something was amiss earlier this afternoon, then the odor would've. I walked into a room so thick with methane that I knew the day of reckoning had come. My baby is growing up.

I haven't been this nauseous since my child was an embryo.