Why is it that babies need convincing, coercing, manipulating and/or hog tying to get their diaper changed? I mean, how could they NOT want a clean diaper? Yet whenever it's that time they fuss, whine and suddenly they become Houdini who can get out of any grasp. Sigh. Wrestling a dirty walrus: tugging, pulling, screaming and teeth. If the little beloved Worm would just sit still for a minute then it would only take a minute.
Finally by some miracle you get both cheeks clean and transferred to the new and clean-for-now receptacle. Once secured in place the little drama student happily rolls over and goes about her business (of dirtying the house and another diaper). Meanwhile, you're sweating, tired and now feel awful cranky; but hopefully, at least, all this passes with minimal damage (you're lucky if you don't also need changing also, I mean your clothes of course).
Learning to change a diaper while on the run (baby is doing the running) is VERY valuable. Here is an email I received from Stephanie about this very subject.
ReplyDeleteSpread the diaper in the position of the diamond with you at bat. Then fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher's mound. Put first base and third together, bring up home plate and pin the three together. Of course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again."
~ Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby, 1968
Not going through this battle everytime has been one of my favorite things about going diaper free lately. It's always been a mystery to me why it has to be such a big ordeal. And I thought it was bad with the girls but Sam is even worse - cleaning poop off of him takes a lot longer than it did with the girls and he's fast and really squirmy - I need an extra set of hands, one to change the diaper and one to keep his hands out of trouble.
ReplyDeleteFunny (and by that I mean exhausting, difficult and leaving me on the verge of tears...) thing is I read this post before going down to a Relief Society thing today. Of course Samuel needed to be changed right when we got there (because kids are really good at timing these things...) and he was not happy about the idea. So there I was going through a scene similiar to the one you've just described only it's in the front seat of the car without all the open space and easily cleanable hardwood floor I normally enjoy at home. Thankfully neither of us are too scarred for life. (As far as I can tell anyway...)