The Great Diaper War of October 2006
So here I am doing the stay-at-home mommy thing while I am on maternity leave and the hubby is at work. I have learned to fall asleep quckly in order to maximize the baby's naptime. I have learned to talk on the phone while holding the baby in one arm and feeding her with the other. I have learned to cook a good dinner in twenty minutes - the exact amount of time that Katie will enjoy the pacifier before realizing that she's not being fed. And, my greatest accomplishment, is that I have learned when it is time to move on to the next size diapers.
I thought it would be as easy as saying, "The diaper no longer fits. Let's move up to the next size." Oh no. Parenting can be a game. A game such as, "These Newborn diapers still mostly fit, so let's just finish out the half-used pack and then we'll move up to size 1". Well, this parent quickly learned that the diaper always wins the game.
It all started Monday night, when Katie was wearing her adorable pumpkin sleeper. I had wanted her to go to sleep in it, as it was warm and cozy, and then be able to take a hundred more pictures of her in it the next morning. That was not to be. The diaper leaked. The outfit was changed. Diaper 1, Mom 0.
Baby's Halloween Photo Shoot
Where's the baby in the Pumpkin Patch?
The next morning, Ed left for work and around 10 a.m. Katie politely requested breakfast. Who am I kidding? There was no polite request, only the loud demand of a child who wanted milk and wanted it NOW. I went to change the baby only to discover the diaper leaked. The outfit was changed. Diaper 2, Mom 0.
I may have lost two battles, but I was not going to lose this Newborn diaper war. My pride was at stake. I was not going to be one of those parents who had either received or bought too many packages of diapers. I had just been given an entire shopping bag of Newborn diapers from another new parent. I was determined to use some of them. At least I was going to use the ones I had bought.
12:30, another feeding, another diaper. Another leak. Off comes one outfit and on goes another. Diaper 3, Mom 0. What the hell am I thinking? I must not be thinking. Your Honor, I plead temporary insanity. How else can I explain my inability to use a size 1 diaper when one is so obviously needed. A nap is in order to clear my head.
3:00 p.m. I wake to Katie's whimpers. Oh . . . my . . . goodness . . . there was a poop-splosion and the baby is NOT happy. Neither is her cute pink outfit. So there I was with a naked baby on the changing table when the phone rang. Normally, I don't answer the phone when I am doing things with the baby, but it was the bakery and I had been waiting for their call for three days. I answer it and I put them on hold while I . . . I . . . I reached for a size 1 diaper and put it on my screaming baby. Diaper 4, Mom 0.
If I had been in a more sentimental mood, I would have shed a tear at the reality that my baby girl was growing up already. But I wasn't, so I didn't.
But that's not all. I pick up my unclothed child, grab a bottle, and the phone and proceed to hold the baby in my left arm, hold the bottle and feed her with my right hand and wedge the phone between my shoulder and ear. The bakery needs a credit card number to hold the order. Sure, fine, hold on. The baby goes into her upstairs bassinet, begins to scream (this is very unusual behavior for her), and I go downstairs for the necessary info.
This, THIS is the moment I discover that the baby and pink outfit were not the only casualties of the poop-splosion. Oh, no. Mommy was hit also. My left hand, arm, and shirt were wounded by poo. Great. Get the bakery off the phone, wash up and check the baby. Clean off the leg that had been hit and put on another cute pink outfit that is one size too big. She couldn't find her fingers and neither could mommy. Who needs fingers anyway?
Kaitlyn then guzzled a 5 ounce bottle in six minutes, let out the loudest belch I have ever heard come from any human being, and then passed out for the next 3 1/2 hours. I was too shaken by the whole 20 minute episode that I sat in stunned silence for a good 10 minutes before coming to my senses.
Wow. What was thinking?
I thought it would be as easy as saying, "The diaper no longer fits. Let's move up to the next size." Oh no. Parenting can be a game. A game such as, "These Newborn diapers still mostly fit, so let's just finish out the half-used pack and then we'll move up to size 1". Well, this parent quickly learned that the diaper always wins the game.
It all started Monday night, when Katie was wearing her adorable pumpkin sleeper. I had wanted her to go to sleep in it, as it was warm and cozy, and then be able to take a hundred more pictures of her in it the next morning. That was not to be. The diaper leaked. The outfit was changed. Diaper 1, Mom 0.
Baby's Halloween Photo Shoot
Where's the baby in the Pumpkin Patch?
The next morning, Ed left for work and around 10 a.m. Katie politely requested breakfast. Who am I kidding? There was no polite request, only the loud demand of a child who wanted milk and wanted it NOW. I went to change the baby only to discover the diaper leaked. The outfit was changed. Diaper 2, Mom 0.
I may have lost two battles, but I was not going to lose this Newborn diaper war. My pride was at stake. I was not going to be one of those parents who had either received or bought too many packages of diapers. I had just been given an entire shopping bag of Newborn diapers from another new parent. I was determined to use some of them. At least I was going to use the ones I had bought.
12:30, another feeding, another diaper. Another leak. Off comes one outfit and on goes another. Diaper 3, Mom 0. What the hell am I thinking? I must not be thinking. Your Honor, I plead temporary insanity. How else can I explain my inability to use a size 1 diaper when one is so obviously needed. A nap is in order to clear my head.
3:00 p.m. I wake to Katie's whimpers. Oh . . . my . . . goodness . . . there was a poop-splosion and the baby is NOT happy. Neither is her cute pink outfit. So there I was with a naked baby on the changing table when the phone rang. Normally, I don't answer the phone when I am doing things with the baby, but it was the bakery and I had been waiting for their call for three days. I answer it and I put them on hold while I . . . I . . . I reached for a size 1 diaper and put it on my screaming baby. Diaper 4, Mom 0.
If I had been in a more sentimental mood, I would have shed a tear at the reality that my baby girl was growing up already. But I wasn't, so I didn't.
But that's not all. I pick up my unclothed child, grab a bottle, and the phone and proceed to hold the baby in my left arm, hold the bottle and feed her with my right hand and wedge the phone between my shoulder and ear. The bakery needs a credit card number to hold the order. Sure, fine, hold on. The baby goes into her upstairs bassinet, begins to scream (this is very unusual behavior for her), and I go downstairs for the necessary info.
This, THIS is the moment I discover that the baby and pink outfit were not the only casualties of the poop-splosion. Oh, no. Mommy was hit also. My left hand, arm, and shirt were wounded by poo. Great. Get the bakery off the phone, wash up and check the baby. Clean off the leg that had been hit and put on another cute pink outfit that is one size too big. She couldn't find her fingers and neither could mommy. Who needs fingers anyway?
Kaitlyn then guzzled a 5 ounce bottle in six minutes, let out the loudest belch I have ever heard come from any human being, and then passed out for the next 3 1/2 hours. I was too shaken by the whole 20 minute episode that I sat in stunned silence for a good 10 minutes before coming to my senses.
Wow. What was thinking?
posted by Ed at 1:14 PM
1 Comments:
Ah the blessings of Mommyhood! We went through a similar thing with our lil one. You learn fast that some battles, you just need to find new strategies for, as well as hooking up with other parents to distribute those extra diapers.
I so empathize with you on all the levels. Each day, everyday, I watch our lil one growing, and coming into her own. It's a great ride, and all I can say, it take her in each day, because the next day anything is possible.
Kaitlyn makes an adorable pumpkin by the way. Pook was a pumpkin at age 2. :)
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