1
Too much is bad, too little too,
No wonder I’m obsessed with poo.
First tar-like stuff escapes their bowel,
A sticky substance, black and foul.
Mustard tinged and yellow seedy,
Output from the newborn greedy.
Too much foremilk? Green and frothy.
Puts you off your morning coffee.
Colds make baby feel unhappy,
Stringy mucous fills their nappy.
Nappy blasters break the seal,
Little legs pump away with zeal.
Then something binds it to their bums,
Hours are spent massaging tums.
Teething, drooling, soggy messes,
Diarrhoea seeps through
SelfishMother.com
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dresses.
When solids pass their lips it’s worse,
No parent can escape the curse.
At least it used to smell quite sweet,
But now it’s half digested meat.
Soon come games of ’pass the potty’
Aiming fails can drive you dotty.
Then when you think your work is done,
Your child shouts ’help me wipe my bum.’
SelfishMother.com
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Add Some Extra - 21 Feb 17
Too much is bad, too little too,
No wonder I’m obsessed with poo.
First tar-like stuff escapes their bowel,
A sticky substance, black and foul.
Mustard tinged and yellow seedy,
Output from the newborn greedy.
Too much foremilk? Green and frothy.
Puts you off your morning coffee.
Colds make baby feel unhappy,
Stringy mucous fills their nappy.
Nappy blasters break the seal,
Little legs pump away with zeal.
Then something binds it to their bums,
Hours are spent massaging tums.
Teething, drooling, soggy messes,
Diarrhoea seeps through dresses.
When solids pass their lips it’s worse,
No parent can escape the curse.
At least it used to smell quite sweet,
But now it’s half digested meat.
Soon come games of ‘pass the potty’
Aiming fails can drive you dotty.
Then when you think your work is done,
Your child shouts ‘help me wipe my bum.’
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Mother of 2 on maternity leave. Amateur poet with rhymes up my sleeve...... Sometimes I get fixated on the mundane and need to get it out of my head, so I can move on with my day. This takes the form of crap poetry.