Before I had my daughter, I already had 2 sons. I had been a mother for 13 years, had a few nieces and nephews, worked in child care for a few years and even was a babysitter as a teen. Suffice to say, I've changed my share of diapers and I've smelled a million stinks. I've wrestled little squirmers and I've been peed on more times than I'd like to remember. None of this prepared me for changing my daughter.
I've mentioned before that my daughter has inherited my super-human strength. My sister started calling it that back when we were children and I was able to move furniture without even wincing. She's right, I have always been pretty strong and it's very handy talent so I am proud that my daughter won't suffer a life of being too fragile to take matters into her own hands. I will admit though, that I will appreciate this talent much more when she is potty trained. For as strong as I am, she can take me. That teeny tiny little peanut who only weighs 23 pounds sure knows how to throw her weight around.
At the first whiff it is best to scan the room for the biggest, strongest man available and recruit his help because if she decides she doesn't want to be changed, you're going to need to call in back up right from the get go. Before you even get her to the changing table, she starts the battle. It's like trying to hold a wild badger only much more dangerous.
On top of the changing table, she has the home field advantage. She has a few moves that she uses regularly, but throws in a few surprises from time to time. I have seen variations of these moves before but never with such strength, agility, speed and sharply honed technique. Her standard moves are as follows. She starts off with the "Diagonal Plank" move. She gets herself positioned in such a way that while I'm holding both of her ankles, she pushes up and turns her head under so that the very top of her head is the only thing touching the changing table. Then she employs the "Cross-over Flip" where she reaches over with her right arm and grabs the left side of the changing table and flips herself so quickly that you almost cant even see it with the naked eye. Now her legs are twisted up with your arms so you have no choice but to let go. Her third move is the "Paddle Boat" where she just kicks repeatedly in a bicycle-like fashion. This one is especially impressive because she is able to do this the entire time she's doing the other moves.
We've been struggling for probably over two minutes at this point and I don't even have the diaper off yet. I have to lean across her body to pin her down while I try to pull open the diaper. The screams she emits rival any horror film I have ever seen. I better go shut the window before the police get a call. When I finally get the diaper open, any of a few scenarios play out - none of which involve me simply cleaning her and re-diapering as you might have guessed. Generally, she will either have rabbit dropping poopies which then roll everywhere during the continued struggle or she will have a nice mashed potatoes thing going on. The rabbit droppings are the preferred mess but the mashed potatoes seem reign king in our house. Rarely will we see the elusive standard poop and the other scenario (the 'rhea) is too horrific to even discuss outside of a licensed professional's office.
Now that her diaper is off and dookie is exposed, she ratchets up the fight even more. Additionally, this is when the phone rings, someone is at the door or my son has his hand stuck in a jar. I can't deal with those extra problems so for now they will be ignored. She is now using all of her moves in unison. She decides to throw in a bonus move I like to call the "Shaky Bridge". She usually waits for a mound of poops to be under her to throw this one in. She plants her feet down and then raises and drops her whole body in a fit of rage, essentially flattening and in some unfortunate cases, splattering the dookie. What begins as relatively small mound of doo is quickly transformed into what would appear to be a pudding factory explosion. As I try to hold her still, I reach for a wipe and of course there are none left. I struggle to get the refill bag open and as I pull one, they all come along. Because of this delay, my daughter has poop on her back, feet and probably on my face from all the kicking that's been going on. I whip the long strip of baby wipes in an effort to disconnect them with just one hand, but now I am left with only one as the rest fly across the room. Had there been wipes in the box ready to go, I could have pulled a few and had the clean up done. But now with the added delay, this is looking more like a 30-wipe job.
The struggle has resulted in her having poop on her belly and her shirt so I have to change her clothes too. I've been kicked in the face, neck, chin, jaw and ear. My lip is split and I think I taste something a bit nutty on my lip. I reach for a new diaper and drop it on the floor. As I reach to retrieve it, I keep one hand on her so she doesn't fall off the table - as if the gentle touch of my hand on her leg could save her from falling when laying across her body didn't even subdue her. Thank God no diaper rash cream this time. That's a mess that I don't even want to discuss.
As I shake the diaper furiously to open it and fight to get the diaper under her, she manages to jump up somehow and is now standing. For a brief moment, her screams are halted by a manical shriek of joy until I pick her up and pin her back down. I get one sticky tab open and quickly press it on. One side down, one to go! I pull open the other tab and struggle to secure it to the diaper. I swear it's like playing pin the tail on the donkey ...but with a real donkey and a real pin ...while in an out of control cement mixer on a gravel road. Just as I'm about to put it in place, the tab rips off and I have to start over with a new diaper.
By the time she has a clean diaper on, she has grabbed the powder, wipes and light switch, and has gotten the poop that was on her hands on all of these things too. She's banged her head, kicked me many, many times and has started hacking on her own snot and tears from crying so hard. I have to wipe everything down, struggle to get her dressed again and re-open the window in hopes the odor will subside. Let's hope she doesn't have to go again for at least a few days! Think I'll start feeding her more String Cheese and steak.
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