Diaper Be Gone
It’s finally happened. One of the long awaited days in my life that I’ve been eagerly looking forward to has finally arrived. My patience and mostly not so silent suffering has actually come to an end. 'HALLELUJAH', is what I want to shout out at the top of my lungs, for all the world to hear... but I won’t because that’s just plain old freaky and very, very weird. My youngest has finally come to that magical point in her young life where she no longer needs a diaper.
Yup, any parent who’s done their time and paid their dues will know what I’m talking about. A great achievement and a major milestone in her developmental progress. She’s very proud of the fact that she can now use the toilet all by herself and finds the entire process of flushing the loo utterly fascinating.
Now that’s all very good and well. I’m also very proud of her and love how happy she is to have taken one more step on her way to becoming a ‘big girl' but the most important thing to remember is that the real winner in this situation is me, myself and I. Very egotistical, I know but when I say I hate changing diapers, I actually mean that I loath that particular part of raising children. Loath if with every neutron of my being.
Since it's conception in the 1950's, the disposable diaper has been a god send to countless parents around the globe. Their inventor, Marion Donovan, should be hoisted to the lofty heights of the 20th centuries greatest inventors, right alongside the Wright brothers, Addison, Tesla etc. At least from my point of view. Thanks to her and her invention, I have the distinct pleasure of never having to use a washable diaper and can only imagine how much 'fun' those must be.
Even so, disposable diaper, scented refuse bag and huge dollops of Vicks Vaporrub up every nostril( my personal number one life hack), I have just never really been able to get to grips with a full nappy and although I exaggerate a bit for the sake of this post, it has nonetheless always been one of the grossest things I've had to repeatedly do over the years .... and I'm used to cleaning sewage drains.
No more dirty, smelly diapers. No more gagging, retching or dry heaving as I try to desperately change a full nappy as fast as possible. Trying to hold two twitchy little legs aloft while simultaneously employing first one , then ten wet wipes, fastidiously wiping at the offending area. Wishing I had a third hand with which to move the now open, fully loaded diaper to somewhere, anywhere else just not within smelling distance. All the while being careful not to mess it’s contents all over the place in my haste. No more almost passing out while holding my breath. Quickly running out of life giving oxygen, then rushing the task at hand too much as my vision starts to blur and subsequently getting some of the “stuff" on my hands, pants, shirt and one time, after a particularly nasty, spontaneous twitch of one chubby little leg, my cheek.
While one never knows what the future may hold. I can say that, for now at least, I am finally done with diapers and if I never see another nappy in my life, it’ll be too soon.