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How Changing My Toddler's Diapers Has...Changed

Now that Cooper can move, all he wants to do is move.  He's either chasing after the vacuum, crawling over to pull on my leg or
image of adult changing diaper
scooting after the toy cars he just learned to roll.  Laying on his back to have his diaper changed is the last thing he feels like doing. Take the diaper I changed a few hours ago, for instance: From a few feet away, I catch a whiff.  I've smelled enough dirty diapers to know we need to head straight to the changing table--STAT. Before I even lay Cooper on his back he starts to protest by throwing his head back and shrieking. Hey--this is the best view I've had of his newly erupted top teeth!  I'm sorry, I'm distracted.  Back to the unpleasant task at hand.  As I unsnap his one piece  outfit,  Cooper begins grabbing at things on the ledge that are just out his reach... some saline for stuffy noses and his baby vitamins.  He can't reach them and he doesn't really want to.  He just wants to throw them on them on the floor.  He eventually reaches them enough to send them flying while I frantically keep unsnapping.  (Why can't more baby outfits have zippers??) Now the  outfit is undone--I just need to unsnap his one-sie.  At this point he starts the move I like to call the Death Roll. Have you ever seen an alligator trying rip chunks of meat off of it's prey? It clamps down and violently heaves itself over and over. That's basically what Cooper tries to do.  He seems to think that flinging himself off of the changing table is a better option than staying still for even one more second. I hold him down with one hand and quickly bend to grab the only toy in reach.  I shove it into his hands, "See the dolly?  Nice dolly.  Here, hold her." He's still for about ten seconds studying his sister's Barbie while I unsnap his diaper cover and then unsnap his duo-fab fitted (now Natural One Size Fitted )underneath.  I peak inside.  It's big one.  And stinky.  But thanks to the leg gussets and elastic tops of the fab fitteds, it wasn't a blow-out. But even my Thirsties can't protect me from what happens next: The Donkey Kick.  The Donkey Kick is a feat that involves some core strength--I'm not sure I could do it myself.  Cooper lifts his legs as high as he can, arches his back and then slams his both of his legs down as hard as he can.  I grab his ankles with one hand and my re-usable wipes with the other.  I fold the diaper to cover the poo but it's too late.  His first Donkey kick has covered his legs and feet with poo streaks. At this point, I know the changing table cover is a total loss, as is his outfit and mine. I finish wiping him as best I can and then decide to give him a final rinse in the bathroom sink--on Daddy's side.  I grab a clean cloth diaper and cover and dress my still thrashing, but no-longer-stinky, son. Unfortunately, I won't fit in the sink, nor can I shower while home alone with three kids.  So I change my shirt, wash my hands and I'm off to my next glamorous task: washing poopy clothes. Sigh.
cloth diaper humor
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  • been here play by play, exact words…several times. glad to hear i’m not the only one.

    janie vezina on
  • This made me laugh! I remember this with siblings and kids I babysat for. My daughter isn’t old enough to do that yet.

    Tracy on
  • Interesting article!

    Joanne on
  • I keep a stash of things for my soon to be 1 year old nearby but it’s starting to not work…. the process of changing the diaper is a nice ballet of shuffling the cloth wipes and juggling liners and toys and making sure I don’t get the poo somewhere other than the wipe or diaper. It’s probably a very fun thing to watch yet a very frustrating task. I really hope this phase ends soon!

    Michelle Blessing on
  • Wow! I feel like I just read about my son! It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who goes through this battle!

    Jenni on

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