the dirty-diaper-of-fun

We've all heard the tale of the one year old who discovers their dirty-diaper-of-fun during nap time. This war story is a harrowing one, and often ends with groans of disbelief and wonder at the magnitude of the mess. I've had friends survive this storm, still alive to tell the tale. In the back of our heads we all know this is possible, but highly unlikely with our own child. After all, we have had two kids never do this. So why would one of our offspring suddenly do something so heinous.

So we put our wee one down for her nap in a t-shirt and diaper. It seems fine. It's hot enough and she is warm blooded, always hot and sweaty, so this is probably the most comfortable for her.

And that nap turns out to be particularly long. And particularly quiet. It's such a gift. This time in the afternoon devoted to quiet tasks to accomplish before the arrival of baby #4.

The nap is so long that you might go and check on the 20-month-old. And the moment you open the door you are hit with a smell so fowl you know all that is ahead. You pull the curtain and even upon seeing the war zone, you actually feel very little emotion. The smears of painting and artistry are from head to toe, on every blanket, bar and crib rail. There is a look of innocence as your dear daughter tells you she is not the enemy. She knows this is wrong and continues on repeat, "no, no, poopie. no, no." She is with you. On your side. How this happened is truly a mystery.

The mess was huge, but I didn't even call for back up. Somehow my heart rate didn't even go up. I knew what had to be done. And even though I can't hardly reach her mattress down so low without smooshing my belly into the crib rail, and even though bending over for three rounds of new water in the bathtub is not my idea of a great position these days, I did it. Because I am a mother. And now I have material to add when the stories begin about the day the one year old discovered their dirty-diaper-of-fun.