Three, Two, One...We have liftoff
The last two days have been interesting from a learning standpoint. As a new dad, I have no idea what to expect from diaper changes. Granted that I've had nieces and nephews since forever and have had to change a few diapers in my lifetime, but I've NEVER experienced anything like this.
Just when I thought I was getting the hang of slipping the old diaper off, wiping her down, and slipping the new diaper on, Sydney threw me a curve last Wednesday. She waited until I had lifted her little bottom up with one hand and slipping the new diaper underneath her to rip a good one. All I could say was..."Ohhhhhhh, that was just wrong!!!" Tracie was laughing hysterically and finally recomposed herself enough to slip some new papertowels between Sydney and the changing pad to prevent more damage. At least I had the new diaper to catch most of it. I guess that was the test phase in preparation for launch.
Yesterday, Tracie told me about her own experience with Rocket Sydney. While she was being changed, Sydney decided yesterday to include Tracie in the fun. Tracie made the mistake of looking away for just a second with Sydney's diaper off. She went for launch. Tracie swore that a stream of liquidy poop jettisoned past the edge of our king-size mattress and deposited some "stuff" on the carpet. Gosh, I wish I had been there to witness it.
The number 3 must have some magical meaning to us. Afterall, there are 3 of us (not counting La Cat). Sydney was born in March on the 23rd. I was born in March, and Tracie was born on the 3rd of September. Therefore, our experience would not be complete without a 3rd incident. Last night, we again experience "The Launch". I fed Sydney a full bottle and waited for her to take care of business before setting her down to start changing her diaper. I had just finished telling Tracie to put a few more papertowels down in case Sydney pulls another stunt when it happened. I stared in total amazement at her little bottom while we had ignition. It was like someone opened up a firehose pressurized with goo.
"Houston, we have a problem!!"
The papertowels were soaked, and the changing pad was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. We quickly grabbed a few more towels and shoved them where the sun don't shine to stem the flow. It worked. We began clean up procedures. Two seconds later, she went for seconds. My, oh, my. The kid has serious stomach muscles. I felt the warmth of the aftermath on my hand as I tried with all futility to hold back the tide. I felt as if I were a New Orleans levee during Hurricane Katrina. The power of nature is truly something to behold. NOT.
Well, I can truly laugh about it now but at the time, it sure was not funny. I laughed but there was little else I could have done for a reaction. I can now really understand what people have always said about how poop is not as disgusting when it is from your own kid. I'll gladly handle it again. But hopefully not anytime soon.
Just when I thought I was getting the hang of slipping the old diaper off, wiping her down, and slipping the new diaper on, Sydney threw me a curve last Wednesday. She waited until I had lifted her little bottom up with one hand and slipping the new diaper underneath her to rip a good one. All I could say was..."Ohhhhhhh, that was just wrong!!!" Tracie was laughing hysterically and finally recomposed herself enough to slip some new papertowels between Sydney and the changing pad to prevent more damage. At least I had the new diaper to catch most of it. I guess that was the test phase in preparation for launch.
Yesterday, Tracie told me about her own experience with Rocket Sydney. While she was being changed, Sydney decided yesterday to include Tracie in the fun. Tracie made the mistake of looking away for just a second with Sydney's diaper off. She went for launch. Tracie swore that a stream of liquidy poop jettisoned past the edge of our king-size mattress and deposited some "stuff" on the carpet. Gosh, I wish I had been there to witness it.
The number 3 must have some magical meaning to us. Afterall, there are 3 of us (not counting La Cat). Sydney was born in March on the 23rd. I was born in March, and Tracie was born on the 3rd of September. Therefore, our experience would not be complete without a 3rd incident. Last night, we again experience "The Launch". I fed Sydney a full bottle and waited for her to take care of business before setting her down to start changing her diaper. I had just finished telling Tracie to put a few more papertowels down in case Sydney pulls another stunt when it happened. I stared in total amazement at her little bottom while we had ignition. It was like someone opened up a firehose pressurized with goo.
"Houston, we have a problem!!"
The papertowels were soaked, and the changing pad was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. We quickly grabbed a few more towels and shoved them where the sun don't shine to stem the flow. It worked. We began clean up procedures. Two seconds later, she went for seconds. My, oh, my. The kid has serious stomach muscles. I felt the warmth of the aftermath on my hand as I tried with all futility to hold back the tide. I felt as if I were a New Orleans levee during Hurricane Katrina. The power of nature is truly something to behold. NOT.
Well, I can truly laugh about it now but at the time, it sure was not funny. I laughed but there was little else I could have done for a reaction. I can now really understand what people have always said about how poop is not as disgusting when it is from your own kid. I'll gladly handle it again. But hopefully not anytime soon.
posted by DaddyEyeduck at 10:11 AM
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