INTRO: I've been wanting to share a few "real life parenting" moments but I don't have any photos. Everybody hates text only posts. So I drew some really crappy pictures to illustrate. Here goes…
I have a four year old and a one year old. The one year old is still in diapers. Changing the diaper of a one year old is much more difficult with a four year old in the room.
And this is why.
No matter what, the moment I'm changing a diaper is the exact moment that my four year old suddenly, desperately needs to tell me something.
He presents his news as being so unbeliveable that it MUST be told to me right at this exact minute and of course I have to be facing him, looking him in the eyes while he tells me this unbelievable thing.
Whether or not poop is involved and the amount of the poop positively correlates with the urgency of his need for my attention.
If you suck at statistics this means MORE poop = MORE need mama.
At least I think. I suck at statistics.
Usually, I am very prepared for this situation.
One time recently though, I made a mistake. I was not prepared for poop. It was one of those phantom poops when you have no idea it is in there and you aren't armed and ready with wipes and distractions.
I turned my head away from the baby for just one second as I'm opening the diaper, to tell my four year old that it will be just a minute, thinking it was just pee we were dealing with.
The changing of a diaper transforms the baby into a spastic octopus. Dipping both heels and hands in the poop and flinging it all around the room like a lawn sprinkler.
Which is exactly what happened.
Moments later, in an attempt to deal with the situation, I have poop on my hands and arms and a heaping mound of soiled paper towels at my feet.
I sweetly explain to four year old that it will be a bit longer, that there is an extreme poop situation I'm dealing with here. I know I'm walking on eggshells.
Unfortunately, this extended time spent cleaning up has ignited an angry monster in my four year old. He MUST tell me his unbelievable thing. NOW!
He is getting more and more impatient, louder and louder and more and more angry.
MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!
The noise of him screaming MAMA! is deafening.
MAMA! I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!
Okay, what is it, honey? Just tell me!
NO, YOU HAVE TO LOOK AT ME!!!
My nerves are like daggers having had to block out being screamed at while trying to contain the poop explosion.
MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!
But finally, the poop is mostly wiped up and the baby is secured in a clean diaper. I no longer need to focus 100% of my attention on the poop containment.
Now I can finally give my four year old the attention he so desperately requires. I am free to listen to his emergency.
But my teeth are still clenched and that tense feeling of stress has not left. I'm annoyed. Very.
Facing him, I see the anger drain from his face. He wipes his tears. Deep breath for both of us.
I'm thinking this better be good. After all that, this better be serious.
He pauses and his eyes widen. Like he is about to tell me something so unbelievable that I won't be able to handle it. This is it. This is his moment!
And he was right. It was fucking unbelievable.
And this is what it is like to change diapers with a four year old in the room.