Three month old baby - nappy habits

Disclaimer - If you are grossed out by the very thought of dealing with dirty nappies, then please look away now, this is a frank account of my experiences so far...

What I always imagined was going to be a fairly simple and unexciting maintenance aspect of enjoying time with the "cute" portion of my beloved Thomas (i.e. the end that smiles and makes "Ah goo" noises, the end that over the weekend uttered an adorable chuckle in generous exchange for a simple gesture of mine, quite unworthy of such praise, in my opinion)...Yes - the nappy, and contents thereof - has actually turned out to be an unexpected source of some considerably unpleasant shock and dismay...

In the first few days, just after Thomas had been born, even though his little tummy was the size of a walnut and he was only drinking a handful of millimeters a sitting, his tiny nappies were pretty regularly filled with a substance that resembled overcooked broccoli, albeit broccoli that had been all mashed up with a good French grain mustard - it was a bit nasty and rather sticky (roughly the consistency of bovril) requiring a good clean with warm water and cotton wool balls...I suppose this lasted about two weeks, a little bit worrying to be cleaning something literally green from around your babies bottom, but as the nurses didn't seem to be grabbing him out of our arms and running towards a doctor, we just sort of went with it...

Weeks three to five things suddenly got very dangerous indeed, I can remember draping muslins down my front (in the fashion of a diner tucking in his napkin before a fine meal), and with a look of grim determination preparing 5 baby wipes, setting a white flannel within easy grasp, pre-opening both the new nappy (ready to rush into position) and the E45 pot, taking a deep breath and then (as fast as possible) - undoing the old nappy, folding the front down out of the way, grabbing Thomas' feet in an attempt to stop them going into the poo (and failing), grasping for the white flannel to stop him peeing in his face, my fingers finding empty air as he knocks it onto the floor with a flailing arm, starting to cry as the wee gets in his eyes...fumbling for a baby wipe to try and do the job instead as poo then squirts out in a two meter long arc from Thomas' squirming bottom missing the muslin and going all over my trouser leg, socks and the carpet...wishing I had two more pairs of hands and finally yelling out in panic for Flyingpops to come and rescue me (as Thomas is sick all over his baby grow)...

Thankfully, this stage didn't last terribly long...the new "normal" is for him to save up all the poo for an entire week (every nappy is just wet and heavy), until suddenly he scares the absolute hell out of us by crying like he is about to expire in burning agony and then refusing to breathe for two minutes while we contemplate how quickly we can get to the hospital if we choose not to bother wasting time putting shoes on, just hauling open the front door with half a coat dragging on the floor, when suddenly there is an almighty blast of flatulence and his nappy line explosively expands by about 3 inches...followed by a happy "Ah Goo" and Mum and Dad exchanging looks containing equal amounts of relief and reluctant resignation...

Fink sends a pleading glance towards heaven...

Fade to black...