Diapers

Sometimes, it is very easy to change my daughter’s diaper. Sometimes, I have to pin her down on the ground with both of my legs, semi-sitting on her face while I change her diaper against her writhing legs and midst her wild wails. Sometimes, it is quick and I am finished within thirty seconds. Other times, I am gagging and crying as I avoid as best possible smelling the horrendous sludge that is somehow everywhere at once and seems endless for the first few baby wipes… and she sometimes decides to put her hand or foot in those, too…

And, on rare occasions – very rare ones – I don’t have to be the one to change the diaper at all, and it gets changed by someone else. But usually not. Usually, even if someone else is around and I think that someone’s or those someones would change her diaper, I find out after they leave that she is still wearing the same diaper I put on her before they came to watch her, and now she probably has a slight rash.

Ugh.

Sometimes, people suck.

But I like my baby. Even though she keeps pulling my hair as I write this.

Post-a-day 2025