Diapers are NOT magic

Tuesday morning, as Gage lay down on the bathroom rug to get his diaper changed, he uttered one of the funniest things I’ve heard in a while.  I had unfastened his nighttime pullup, and was getting some wipes to clean him.  He pulled the diaper out from underneath him and tossed it on the tile, to which I said, “Gage, don’t pull that off yet, I’m not ready.”  His response was priceless, “I like taking off diapers!  It’s magic!”

As cute as that may be, I’m here to tell you that un-potty-trained diaper removal is in no wise magical.  For proof, I only need to look back at Sunday, to an un-diapering event that will forever be burnt into my memory…

We had not gotten a lot of sleep the night before, Tamara and I.  We were completely exhausted, and the baby woke up extra early wanting to be fed.  Tamara stumbled into the nursery fighting against a migraine that would last almost the entire day, and did what she could to feed the baby.  I took over after that, giving Haven a bottle of formula.

About midway through that bottle, Griffin materializes from around the corner and announces that Gage has poo-poo’s in his diaper.  This didn’t worry me a great deal, because Gage almost always mistakes a saturated overnight diaper for one having poop in it.  “Gage,” I called, “come here.”  A few moments later, my three year old waddles around the corner sporting a bowlegged shuffle that looks like he’s been on a horse for the past two days.  I sent him on to the bathroom.

Had I known two crucial things, at this point, it would have changed the whole course of the morning.  The first thing: Gage was NOT in a nighttime diaper, he was in a daytime diaper.  For those of you not versed in the subtle differences between the two, bear in mind that a nighttime diaper is designed to hold more.  The second: Gage was not done peeing in said diaper.

Like they say, hindsight is 20/20, and without that foreknowledge, I elected to continue feeding sister her bottle.  Upon finishing, I laid her down in the crib and walked toward the bathroom.  Gage was not lying down on the rug, as I had told him to do, but what bothered me more was the puddle growing under his right foot.  I quickly got him off his feet and started pulling his pj’s off.  The bathroom rug underneath him saturated almost instantly.  There was nothing left to do but take a step back, take a deep breath, and decide on the next course of action.  So I did take a step back, right into a puddle of pee.

At this point, I’m pretty thoroughly grossed out.  I pulled a Clorox wipe out from underneath the cabinet, cleaned my foot, and wiped it off on a part of the rug that was still dry.  I told Gage that he was not to get up, and then took the wet pj bottoms to the laundry room. 

Upon my return, I finally started taking care of the heart of the matter.  In my zeal to get the whole ordeal over, I gripped the sides of the pullup and yanked the Velcro tabs away from their fasteners.  My face and arms were instantly showered with tiny specks of urine.  I had no idea that was even possible.  The second tab on the other side did the exact same thing.  It was disgusting, but this far into the process, all that was left to do was wipe my face and move on.

When I lay the pullup open, I could see the liquid washing back and forth inside of it, like waves in a bathtub.  I actually had to go get a second diaper to lay on top of the used one and soak up the excess.

The next 30 minutes was eaten up with giving Gage a bath, washing the rug, and mopping the bathroom floor.  If ever there was a morning to be in bed with a migraine, this was it.

So, you see how I can say that taking off diapers isn’t necessarily a magical thing.  In my estimation, potty-trained children are where the real magic is at.

Diaper Gremlins

We seem to have a clan of Diaper Gremlins lurking in our house.  I have looked everywhere trying to find their hiding place.  I’ve explored the attic, searched through the garage, and even poked around in the heating/air ducts, but have yet to see any trace of the little pranksters.

The tell-tale symptoms started showing up a little while after we brought Haven home from the hospital, so I assume they got into her diaper bag or Tamara’s duffle bag while we were there.  Normally, it wouldn’t vex me so much, but these creatures seem bent on making me look foolish in front of my wife.

No matter how much I pay attention to detail at the changing table, the problems continually crop up.  I take off the old diaper, clean up the baby, put on the new diaper, clean the umbilical stump, put the used cotton ball in the old diaper, CLOSE it up, and then throw it in the Diaper Genie.  When I come back later, the old diaper is lying there on the changing table, still opened.  It’s beyond annoying.

Through experimentation, I’ve determined that Diaper Gremlins are mostly nocturnal creatures, though they’re not above pulling the diaper back out and putting on the changing table in broad daylight if given a chance.  However, their absolute favorite time to work seems to be right after those diaper changes that occur between two and five a.m.

It’s hard to find the bright side about a whimsical pest taking up residence in your home, but I can at least be thankful that they don’t mess with the soiled diapers.  Those always manage to stay safely sealed away in the Diaper Genie.  I guess that goes to show that there are things too gross for even a Diaper Gremlin.  I’m also glad they don’t fling them about the room or hide them in some unseemly place.  It turns out that they like to put the diapers in the same location I set them when changing Haven, so you can see how there is a natural assumption that I just didn’t finish the job.

Following that line of thought, my wife is convinced that I’m just forgetting to throw them away.  This is particularly annoying since gremlins are a slippery sort and I can’t get any hard proof to show that they are responsible.  Motion detecting cameras are far too slow to catch the movement of this whimsical creature, and I’d try high-speed video, but everyone knows that gremlins can just alter the film to make it look like I was the one who left it there.

Last night, I tried covering the changing table with glue trap paper to snag them in the act, but it only made the baby mad when I had to pull her off of it.  So, at this point I’m stumped, and definitely open to any ideas.

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Note:  Gremlins are mythical creatures.  They don’t exist.  If this entry has in any way confused you, let me explain:  I keep forgetting to put the diapers in the Diaper Genie.  The End.

A Babies Diary

Dear Diary,

I just had to write and tell you about the most horrible experience I’ve ever had in my life (granted, I’ve only been here for a month, but still…it was awful).

This morning, about 1:45 or so, I woke up and was terribly hungry.  It was pitch dark in the room, so I was pretty sure the big people didn’t know it was time for First Breakfast.  As usual, I decided to make a little bit of noise to help them get me what I wanted.  A few seconds into my cat-waulering, I heard movement in the room.  I figured my troubles would soon be over.

Imagine my surprise when the closet light came on and an Ogre was standing over my basinet!  Even though it gently picked me up, I was terrified.  Large puffy eyes stared apathetically at me, as it hoisted me toward its face.  It had wild hair that shot in all directions, and breath bad enough to wilt the flowers on my little pink pajamas.  I just knew it was going to eat me, but instead, it merely grunted in some strange language and headed for the bedroom door.  If I didn’t know better, I would have swore that it sounded like my dad, but I couldn’t deny what my eyes were telling me.

Had the tale ended here, it would hardly be worth telling, but there’s more.  The ogre held me close to its chest and stalked into the nursery. After laying me on the changing table, it unwrapped my comfy blanket and started pulling my warm, snuggly pjs off.  It left me there in the cold morning air!  This made me mad.  Instead of yelling out in fear, I cursed him with every single baby curse I knew (I’m going to have to learn few more of those).  In the end, this turned out not so well for me, cause after that, he pulled off my diaper and grabbed the cold wipes.  Let me tell you, if I had thought the air was chilly before, I had a different opinion now.

To add insult to injury, he got one of those cotton balls, dipped it in alcohol, and started rubbing it on my belly button.  At this point, I’d had more than I could take.  I started yelling for mama.

After a while, it worked.  Apparently the ogre feared my mother’s reprisal, cause he dressed me, wrapped me up in my blanket, and handed me to mama.  I don’t know where he disappeared to, after that, but good riddance!

I hope this never happens again, but next time it does, I’ll know exactly what to do.  Scream for mama until she comes and gets me.

-Haven Thomas ♥♥