A Guide for New Fathers: Part I - What's Shooting Out of My Baby?
Welcome to this first installment of my new multi-part blog series. Rather than bore you with a narrative of my baby's early life, I've decided to compile my experiences into a helpful guide for new dads! Share and enjoy.
Your Baby's Holes (& The Substances That Will Blast Therefrom)
Hole 1: The Mouth
A small baby's mouth is designed to reject most substances. Only one substance - breast milk - is allowed to enter, and even that substance is nearly always immediately released back into the outside world to soak into clothing, blankets, and furniture. Once this milk curdles, which in a cool dry environment can take as long as 8 seconds, it gives baby and her environment a distinctive odor unique to babies (and unwashed gangrenous third-world goatherds). But undigested breast milk is one of the better things you can hope for from a baby's mouth, because if you act fast it's possible to clean it up.
By far and away the best thing that comes out of baby's mouth is drool. I like drool. First of all, it's the only baby substance where the baby word is grosser sounding than the actual word. What sounds grosser to you: "saliva" or "drool"? It sounds like something a shambling zombie would moan.
Anyway, when you see something erupting out of baby's mouth, hope for drool, because it's colorless, (mostly) odorless, and if it lands on the carpet you can probably just leave it there with no ill effects. Your baby will go through phases where he suddenly begins drooling much more copiously than before. When this happens, you will confidently reassure your wife that this just means he's starting to teethe, while secretly fearing in your heart of hearts that your baby is a retard.
But a baby's mouth (especially a little baby) is most likely to emit "spit-up", or, as the medical community more accurately calls it, "putrid rancid semi-digested tit-whey". No one knows for sure why babies spit up so much, but most experts agree that it has something to do with the babies being total fucking assholes.
Spit up differs from adult cheese-vomit in one crucial respect - it appears totally without warning. If an adult were about to yawn up a liter of rancid curds onto your carpet, you'd expect a certain amount of gagging and lurching, or at least a distinctive facial expression to indicate that disaster was imminent. A little baby will giggle and smile at you, and then right through that smile, like those Starburst ads from the 80's, a little tsunami of stinky white destruction will come crashing through those adorable little gums, right onto your priceless Faberge eggs (or Hummel figurines, or whatever other worthless shit you've got piling up in that apartment of yours).
(Just to back up a little - When I said "those Starburst ads from the 80's", I meant the ones where a big tidal wave would unexpectedly hit, with giant fruits floating in it. Sadly, I couldn't find a link to one of those. But I present you with this Starburst commercial instead, because even though it has nothing to do with what I'm talking about, it's too awesomely retarded to go unlinked.)
I know many of you are asking yourselves "How does spit up taste?" Unfortunately, I can tell you. It tastes like feta. Salty, salty, skunky feta.
How do I know this? Well, this brings me to my first tip for new dads:
Tip 1: When within 30 yards of baby, keep your mouth closed.
In my case, I was playing a game called "Oh, The Humanity!", where I float Logan over me while pretending he is the Hindenburg. During this particular game, just as Logan's pretend-hydrogen-contents had exploded and we began the shrieking crash to earth as dozens perished in Logan's flaming wreckage, Logan went totally off script and giggled a stream of spit-up onto the unsuspecting crowd. Because I was busy doing the voices of the doomed passengers, I got a mouthful of Logan's stomach contents.
18 hours later, I finally stopped gagging.
Hole 2: The Urethra
The urethra outlet (or pee-hole) is an opening capable of releasing gallons upon gallons of baby urine the moment it is exposed to the open air. I'm serious. The instant a baby's diaper comes off, they're getting ready to pee, and you are playing with ammonia scented fire every second that diaper is off. This phenomenon is so well documented that there are a wide array of products available to place over a little boy's penis during the few seconds it is exposed during a diaper change. The most popular is the pee-pee teepee.
The good news is that baby urine isn't anywhere near as gross or strongly scented as grown-up potty. Which is good, because you will be peed on. A lot. And not just you. Baby will pee all over himself or herself. If you've got a boy, he'll frequently pee in his own face (don't try to prevent it, this is vital preparation for fraternity life).
You will be peed on so often that I can almost guarantee that at some point early on you (exhausted and stinky, wearing the same pajamas you put on 36 hours ago) will be peed on (just a few errant drops), and you won't even bother to clean it off. Why waste the effort? You'll just be peed on again in half an hour.
Oh, one other thing. During the first four days, it's not uncommon for your baby's urine to contain little red crystals (true!). These crystals are natural and do not indicate a health problem; they're just there to freak you the fuck out.
Hole 3: The Nose
There is a widespread misconception that a baby's nose is used for breathing. In reality, a baby's nose is not connected to the respiratory system until the child is in third or fourth grade. Until then, babies breathe heavily through their mouths, huffing and puffing like little telephone perverts all day long. Many babies' first words are "What are you wearing?"
No, the baby's nose is designed for one thing: the production and storage of boogers. A prolific baby can produce up to 8 giant-sized boogers per day. Each booger is lovingly crafted in exquisite detail, which is why your baby will be overcome with rage if you ever dare to attempt to remove one.
If you do attempt booger removal, I suggest you use a q-tip lightly moistened with chloroform or morphine. Do not attempt booger removal on an unsedated baby; most babies would prefer to whip their head around and drive the q-tip into their brain rather than allow their boogers to fall into enemy hands.
In any case, there is no real need to remove your baby's boogers. They will fall out onto your baby's mattress as she sleeps, at which point they will be harmlessly ground into baby's hair.
Hole 4: The Anus
This is, of course, the exit point for baby's precious little shitballs. It's important to realize that there are many varieties of baby poop as your child ages:
- Meconium (first 1-3 days) - Meconium refers to the first bowel movements of a newborn baby. The word itself is derived from a latin term meaning "why is slimy tar coming out of my baby's asshole?" Meconium can be difficult to remove, but a combination of wet-wipes and a little water usually do the trick. Just kidding. We recommend sandblasting.
- 'Odorless' Mustard Poo (first 3 weeks) - Our baby is breastfed, so his first real poops were wet mustard-colored little splashes. Dr. Sears (world-renowned-baby-care-know-it-all) claims that these early bowel movements "do not have an unpleasant odor". When I read that before Logan was born, I assumed that he meant that these poops had no odor. But that's not true. Inexplicably, these poops smell like (and I swear this is true) the glutinous film that accumulates on the inside of a rice cooker.
- 'Odorful' Mustard Poo (until baby gets solids) - Dr. Sears didn't say a damned thing about this, but after about three weeks, Logan's poop began to acquire a noticeable cheddar cheese odor. We didn't change anything about his diet, his poo just started to stink. So, you know, look forward to that.
- Big Boy Turds (once he gets solids) - These are your grown man, fully formed baby turds. Of course, where grown up turds tend to be shaped like hot dogs, your baby's turds will be shaped like little hamburgers, because they're instantly squashed flat in baby's diaper. But the point is that they still resemble low-quality meat, so you know your baby is becoming a man. The fun part about this stage is now baby needs to work to get the poo out. Before, when it was mostly a liquid, baby sat back and let gravity do the work. But now muscular coordination is needed as baby struggles to execute the complex dance of muscle contractions and relaxations necessary to release a mature dooky. But since baby can barely control her fingers, let alone her various sphincters, this is a challenging process. Sometimes our baby will stand by his window, screaming, tears streaming down his red, sweaty face, as he desperately works to unlock the rubix cube of his bowel muscles. And I stand by his side, cradling his head, feeling his pain, and trying desperately not to laugh.
Babies also fart. I hadn't realized this, but apparently all babies are world-class near-constant farters. Logan farts so much that I have twice asked his doctor if there's something wrong with him. Even more disturbingly, his farts always smell exactly like his mother's, to the point of precisely following hour-by-hour changes ("Look honey! He has my eyes and your flatulence!"). Whatever chemical agents bring odor to farts are apparently passed directly through breastmilk.
Hole 5: The Ears
According to our pediatrician, babies' ears are prone to wax accumulation and it is critical that parents regularly check and clean any waxy build up. Needless to say - fuck that.
Next time: Coping with Baby's Sleep Habits - The Many Benefits of Suicide