The first warning sign that I might be in trouble was the fact that I could smell it before I even opened the door. But the fatal error wasn’t that I walked in with an air of confidence—as having two kids in diapers, I handle this on a regular basis. Nor, was it that I happen to be without the required third arm that would make diaper changes go so much smoother. I didn’t realize the extent of my predicament even when I wrestled my wiggling baby boy and had him pinned down with two chubby feet held with my left hand and the diaper unveiled with my right, displaying an extensive mass that made me question how so much poop could come out of such a tiny body. No, the problem was not discovered until I reached into the wipes container and kept reaching and reaching, further and deeper inside only to discover to my horror a very big problem—only ONE wipe remained to clean it all up!
Deception! That’s why diaper wipe containers should be clear and not opaque so you can see how many wipes are left! What’s a mother to do? Choices, choices. Do I run into the other room and search for something? If I did he would surely grab the poop and have it all over himself. Besides you know we never leave baby unattended on the changing table. If I pick him up to perhaps carry him to the tub, it will be all over me. Been there done that, and thus, dirtied the t-shirt. I even briefly contemplated if I should use his pants that were just lying there on the bed that were calling out to me, “Here I am, use me. No one will ever have to know.”
Well, I was not about to be defeated. Somehow, someway I was going to make this one wipe—this partially shriveled and dried wipe—do the job. So there I stood, baby, diaper, explosion, one wipe and me. I began swiftly folding each little crevice and corner, reusing every little spot of clean surface area on this one tiny wipe. I felt like I was trying to both master the art of origami and manipulate the laws of geometry at the same time, hoping that just maybe I could create more surface area by folding and refolding and refolding until that one little wipe was compressed into a darkened ball.
Thirty-eight folds later! Phew! Call it desperation or determination, but this was victory. And, yes, it was also all over my hands too. But the point is baby got a clean bottom and Mommy did it with only one wipe. Now that’s how we do it.
How do you do it? And, be sure to stop by tomorrow to find out another big problem that immediately followed and how I handled it.
Posted by Laura
Posted by Laura