Jamie Day

My poo filled most sleepless night!

written by Jamie Day

  1. #my most sleepless night
  2. #sleep
  3. #night
  4. #poo
  5. #baby
  6. #newborn
  7. #parent

As new parents we are completely oblivious to the true realities of what being a parent entails. It is not until you have your first night time poo-nami that you realise quite how much your life has changed forever! Here Jamie Day talks us through his poo filled My Most Sleepless Night.

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Being asked to detail my #mostsleeplessnight as a parent is pretty tricky. There have been so many nights where the lack of sleep has been so unimaginable, the tiredness and resulting confusion the next day, has left me questioning if it actually happened. Like a bad dream, when you wake up and can’t quite remember the finer details, but know it was bloody bad.

Thankfully (touches wooden desk), both of our children now sleep through, so hopefully those sleepless nights are behind us. Edie who is 4 in a couple of weeks and Arlo who’s fast approaching 1, hit the hay around 7pm and then we don’t see them again until around 6.30/7ish the next morning (touches desk) (Prays desk is actually made of wood – hmm, not sure).

But, it’s not always been like this. Like I said, the unimaginable levels of tiredness make it difficult to recall particular occasions, they all seem to blend into one moonlit mess. But, there is one night that remains memorable due to an untimely and frankly colossal bowel movement from a very young Edie.

Edie was a terrible sleeper from day dot, but one night, to our surprise, she was fast asleep, not even a dickie bird, sleeping like a baby, as quiet as a mouse, you get the picture. Had we somehow nailed this sleep thing? Err, no, we hadn’t, because around 2am, the torturous screams begun.

It was a bad night for all of us

What the?!

The cries were louder than usual; was she hurt, was she stuck? So we Usain Bolted it into her room, flicked on the lights, and to our horror, we found Edie writhing around in her own, very, very runny, poo. Lovely. She was still in those early, explosive days, where poo could cover the area the size of a small hamlet and the colour suggested my wife Georgia’s boobs were full of some kind of glowing toxic waste. Yummy.

The poo layered Edie’s back and it was stuck in the odd Spanish-exchange- student rat’s tail that sprouted from her hair. No wonder she was wailing such distressing screams (because of the poo, not the dodgy hairstyle). As new parents we found ourselves in bit of a panic. What the hell was going on? This wasn’t in the baby bibles we’d read.

The sleepsuit and vest that Edie was wearing were beyond saving, no amount of Vanish (other stain removers are available) could save this unsightly mess. Attempts to carefully remove said soiled clothing were quickly dismissed when the brown goo spread further into her hair. I legged it downstairs for the kitchen scissors and we then hastily cut Edie’s clothes off, saving her from the filth that had bound her. Despite having a healthy stash of God’s eighth wonder of the world – the magic wet wipe at our disposal, it was only a middle of the night bath that could save Edie from this smelly torment. So with a quick bath run, Edie was unequivocally dunked in as fast as possible before wrapping her in a fluffy towel. Phew! It was all over. Back to bed for all of us… err, no chance.

Remember I said Edie has been a bad sleeper from day dot? Well, on a normal night, just getting her to sleep required ninja-like nimbleness to place her limp body into her cot like a precious feather. The slightest movement or noise, and the whole process would have to start again. Now, try doing this at 3am after the ordeal just experienced. Not a chance.

Despite me singing three million lullabies, reading a trillion books, giving her a bottle, rocking her until my arms went numb and leaving track-marks in the carpet as I shuffled around the moonlit house with her, she just wasn’t going to go to sleep. At 4.30 I gave up and decided it would be easier to just start my day. So with Edie in my aching arms, I went downstairs, made a coffee, put on News 24 and sat. There we were, ordeal behind us, just sitting. Quietly, just the two of us. Staring lovingly (despite what had occurred) into each other’s eyes, and then, just as it felt we might drift off into a gentle slumber, Edie’s face turned a worrying purple red, her butt cheeks tightened and out spurted another sloppy turd.

What the?!

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  1. I'm thankful that my Godson and Nephew are in to there teens and Adulthood, so I've not had that pleasure yet, as I'm still not a Dad yet, hoping one day soon, as I'm not getting any younger!


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