Monday, March 21, 2011
You knew this was coming.
It started out like every other day. Ari woke, ate, played, napped, woke, ate, pooped. I scooped him up, brought him upstairs, and plopped him down on the changing table. In a great mood, he was cooing and smiling and banging his chest Tarzan style (it's his new thing). I lifted his legs and removed his dirty diaper like I always do, and placed the dirty diapie (poo side up) about 2 inches from his tushie so I could place the used wipes in the soiled diaper before I wrapped it up and threw it away. And this is when the seemingly ordinary day became, well, blog worthy.
Ari kicked his legs so hard and fast that I dropped his little feet right in the dirty diaper. His right foot completely covered with crap, I carefully picked up the left foot and right ankle, grabbed a few wipes, and began to clean up the mess. It was simply too difficult to maneuver with an awkward grip and before I knew it, Ari's foot swept against my palm like a paintbrush. At this point I said the heck with it, readjusted my grip, and held both feet in my now poop covered hand. I cleaned up his bum using my clean hand, and then followed with a one-handed foot scrub the lead in 127 Hours would appreciate. He lay naked staring at me as I considered my next move. I had two options: 1. use wipes on my left hand or 2. wash my hands and then dress the baby.
Nauseated by the look and smell of my phalanges, I desperately wanted to wash my hand under warm water with anti-bacterial soap. Cardinal rule of baby rearing - never leave the baby on the changing table unattended. So, using only my right arm, I slid his little body closer to mine, maneuvered my arm under his body, and using my left arm for balance, picked him up and set him down on the rug in his room...without smearing any more poop.
I quickly ran to the bathroom and washed my hands well, returned to the room, put him back on the changing table, and finished the dressing job. Moral of the story - move the diaper off the changing table or wear latex gloves during each diaper change. Or, better yet, let Dad change the dirty diapers.