Colonel Mustard on a Plane
Please note: this post is about baby poo and miracles. You've been warned.
One thing I really like about Ever Jane is that she only empties her bowels once a week. Usually on Sunday (it's a day of rest and relax and her bowels take that seriously). And when she does soil a dipe it's done is a controlled manner. None of this blow-out stuff--like a bottle of mustard exploded all over you and your baby. Oh the many reasons to love Ever Jane Kendrick (smooch!)
However, when she does decide to empty her waste, it usually smells like the breath of death. And if Chup were here he'd type: I SO TESTIFY.
Maybe you know that breastfed babies usually have yeasty smelling poo? Like warm bread? Not so much with Ever Jane Kendrick. But her toes are curly and that makes up for things.
So today I was set to fly in a smallish jet to St. Louis to visit the folks on their Mormon mission (bless their hearts). I was nervous to fly with my little Ever for three hours in a cramped space, so there were definite nerves as we maneuvered through the Salt Lake Airport. The part about motherhood that makes me looney is when there are an infinite amount of variables for one action.
Action: flying.
Variable one: Ever cries incessantly for no reason I can detect.
Variable two: Ever wants to breastfeed, awkward and strange (possibly creepy) man rubbing shoulders with me in seat over.
Variable three: Her ears won't pop when we ascend/decend.
And on. And on.
When we checked in at the gate, we were an instant welcomed distraction for the waiting crowd. Lady with a Baby Makes Grand Gate Entrance! Everyone wanted to coo and cuddle (no touching) (just kidding) and consume my child. I had no blames for any of them.
But just as Ever was punching out some pretty awesome smiles to the folks, I noticed her grin evolving into a grunt. Face goes red. Slight shaking of head. Lines in forehead appear. Nose pinched downwards.
(If you are pulling all of these facial stunts right now as you read this please note: you are now my favorite reader.)
"I think she's working on something!" said a lady two from across the room.
And then I smelled a smell of fermented sewage and just like that, SHOW IS OVER! I ushered my baby to the bathroom and changed her on the changing table. And while I was at it, I patted myself on the back for bringing diapers and wipes because I am the type of mother who forgets the necessities. You can have blames for me for that-- I am a spacey mom, welcome!
Back at the gate, the plane was starting to board and I decided to be the very last passenger. That way I'd save cramped plane time. But as I was sitting there waiting for First Class, Group One, Group Two and The Very Last Group to exit through the tunnel of embarkation Ever started grunting again.
Oh yes she did.
And then I smelled a smell of sweet and condensed sulphur and I knew we had ourselves a second BM in twenty minutes. Only problem was, we had no time to go back to the bathroom and take care of business. So I did the job on my lap while she squirmed about threatening to wipe my white shirt with her latest creation.
Then we took our seats on the plane.
Next to a really nice woman who happened to be a breastfeeding advocate and mother of six, Janet. Prayers are answered! Only Ever started fussing and didn't stop until we were an hour and half into our flight when all of a sudden Janet says to me,
"I smell something."
And just at that moment I felt something wet all over my fingers. Wet and gooey.
Oh yes she did.
Number three (of number twos) all over her onesie, her cuddle blanket and . . . me.
The flight attendant stopped by just as we were discovering our smearing of gold.
"Oh dear, and there are lines for both bathrooms right now. You might have to wait it out. Of course you probably have another outfit to change her into . . . right?"
Wrong. But I smiled anyway like, "Of course!"
After she left, Janet offered her lap and together we layed out Ever Jane and wiped the heck out of everything in sight.
Variable four: Ever explodes.
"I love that smell," Janet said to me as I was vigorously wiping. "Butter popcorn."
I blog a lot about tender mercies--small acts of God that relieve the soul. And I must say for the circumstance--small quarters, full plane, a big bowel blast, Ever's tendency to shoot foul smelling waves into the air--the fact that suddenly her waste smelled like a box of extra buttery popcorn on Friday night at the cinemas was nothing short of a mile high miracle.
And the rest of flight she was a princess on a plane--another reason to love Ever Jane Kendrick.
Sing praises.
St. Louis: Tomorrow on my journey I am going to embark into the city for some good food. Good food is the only reason I travel. History is boring. Just kidding I love history. But I don't travel for history I travel for food. And this time, to see my parents. And for the chance to sleep a lot. I also want to see the arch. Thank you and good night.
I am c jane, and it's good to be back with my parents.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com
One thing I really like about Ever Jane is that she only empties her bowels once a week. Usually on Sunday (it's a day of rest and relax and her bowels take that seriously). And when she does soil a dipe it's done is a controlled manner. None of this blow-out stuff--like a bottle of mustard exploded all over you and your baby. Oh the many reasons to love Ever Jane Kendrick (smooch!)
However, when she does decide to empty her waste, it usually smells like the breath of death. And if Chup were here he'd type: I SO TESTIFY.
Maybe you know that breastfed babies usually have yeasty smelling poo? Like warm bread? Not so much with Ever Jane Kendrick. But her toes are curly and that makes up for things.
So today I was set to fly in a smallish jet to St. Louis to visit the folks on their Mormon mission (bless their hearts). I was nervous to fly with my little Ever for three hours in a cramped space, so there were definite nerves as we maneuvered through the Salt Lake Airport. The part about motherhood that makes me looney is when there are an infinite amount of variables for one action.
Action: flying.
Variable one: Ever cries incessantly for no reason I can detect.
Variable two: Ever wants to breastfeed, awkward and strange (possibly creepy) man rubbing shoulders with me in seat over.
Variable three: Her ears won't pop when we ascend/decend.
And on. And on.
When we checked in at the gate, we were an instant welcomed distraction for the waiting crowd. Lady with a Baby Makes Grand Gate Entrance! Everyone wanted to coo and cuddle (no touching) (just kidding) and consume my child. I had no blames for any of them.
But just as Ever was punching out some pretty awesome smiles to the folks, I noticed her grin evolving into a grunt. Face goes red. Slight shaking of head. Lines in forehead appear. Nose pinched downwards.
(If you are pulling all of these facial stunts right now as you read this please note: you are now my favorite reader.)
"I think she's working on something!" said a lady two from across the room.
And then I smelled a smell of fermented sewage and just like that, SHOW IS OVER! I ushered my baby to the bathroom and changed her on the changing table. And while I was at it, I patted myself on the back for bringing diapers and wipes because I am the type of mother who forgets the necessities. You can have blames for me for that-- I am a spacey mom, welcome!
Back at the gate, the plane was starting to board and I decided to be the very last passenger. That way I'd save cramped plane time. But as I was sitting there waiting for First Class, Group One, Group Two and The Very Last Group to exit through the tunnel of embarkation Ever started grunting again.
Oh yes she did.
And then I smelled a smell of sweet and condensed sulphur and I knew we had ourselves a second BM in twenty minutes. Only problem was, we had no time to go back to the bathroom and take care of business. So I did the job on my lap while she squirmed about threatening to wipe my white shirt with her latest creation.
Then we took our seats on the plane.
Next to a really nice woman who happened to be a breastfeeding advocate and mother of six, Janet. Prayers are answered! Only Ever started fussing and didn't stop until we were an hour and half into our flight when all of a sudden Janet says to me,
"I smell something."
And just at that moment I felt something wet all over my fingers. Wet and gooey.
Oh yes she did.
Number three (of number twos) all over her onesie, her cuddle blanket and . . . me.
The flight attendant stopped by just as we were discovering our smearing of gold.
"Oh dear, and there are lines for both bathrooms right now. You might have to wait it out. Of course you probably have another outfit to change her into . . . right?"
Wrong. But I smiled anyway like, "Of course!"
After she left, Janet offered her lap and together we layed out Ever Jane and wiped the heck out of everything in sight.
Variable four: Ever explodes.
"I love that smell," Janet said to me as I was vigorously wiping. "Butter popcorn."
I blog a lot about tender mercies--small acts of God that relieve the soul. And I must say for the circumstance--small quarters, full plane, a big bowel blast, Ever's tendency to shoot foul smelling waves into the air--the fact that suddenly her waste smelled like a box of extra buttery popcorn on Friday night at the cinemas was nothing short of a mile high miracle.
And the rest of flight she was a princess on a plane--another reason to love Ever Jane Kendrick.
Sing praises.
St. Louis: Tomorrow on my journey I am going to embark into the city for some good food. Good food is the only reason I travel. History is boring. Just kidding I love history. But I don't travel for history I travel for food. And this time, to see my parents. And for the chance to sleep a lot. I also want to see the arch. Thank you and good night.
I am c jane, and it's good to be back with my parents.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com
