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Overheard at the Zibners’ House

“Hurry! Hurry! Help! Quick!”

“What the H*&# is that?”

“An undigested blueberry. And some corn. Quick. The elastic on her ankle is holding it all in!”

“Undigested blueberry? Where’d that come from?”

“I just told you it was undigested, thereby implying that it had gone somewhere with the intention to do just that. Now reach in here and help me!”

As you can read, we’ve been having our ups and downs lately around here. Or is that “ins and outs?” You get the point. While the girls love, love, love their fruits and vegetables, Eva had gotten herself a little, how should I put this, backed up. I personally couldn’t care less if she pooped once a week; that isn’t constipation, by definition. However, watching her turn various shades of purple and then finding a lonely little pebble in her diapers met the medical criteria.

So, I cut back on the cheese and upped the peas. And bought a can of peaches in their juices (no sugar added, thanks. We’ll save that for our M&Ms.) And some prunes. I figured that sticking to my “foods that start with “P” make poop” line would do the trick. And it did. A little too well.

Turns out that Zoe loves peaches. And prunes. And she wasn’t having any trouble before hand. And Eva, well, yes, we’ve got things moving again. Perhaps faster than necessary.

My husband obviously freaked out at the collection of undigested meals that leaked through her diaper and into her PJ’s last night. “Is that normal?!” he screamed, as he flushed that morning’s breakfast down the toilet and I tried to wipe her clean with one hand while restraining Zoe from sticking her hand into the mess with my other.

Of course it is. Sometimes stuff goes in one end and comes out the other practically looking no worse for the wear. If she wasn’t gaining weight, her stools were continually very runny, stinky or greasy, or anything else was weird, I’d be worried. But the occasional “total Pamper blow out” isn’t anything to worry about. Unless, of course, you are my washing machine, my carpet, my diaper pail, my nose or my husband’s delicate constitution. Then it could be a minor inconvenience.

Dr. Lara Zibners, Apr 20, 2011

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