Let the peeing begin!

How many new parents does it take to change a diaper? Apparently two is not enough! Last night, Darrell and I needed more than four hands to handle our little one because he kept presenting us with new challenges. First, it's worth noting that he always screams bloody murder when he's changed, so the wailing is already rattling when you're changing his diaper. I've discovered that turning him on his stomach after an initial wipedown helps twofold: he seems to like it more, so he's quieter, and it's easier to clean the cracks and crevices of his hiney. Of course, when he decides to pee while on his stomach, the arrangement doesn't work so well since by the time Mom notices, he's rolling in his urine.

So, I flipped him over and on to the side of the changing pad that wasn't wet while my husband tried to stem the pee before it rolled on to the couch, where we were changing him. (Our modest budget and cramped, cluttered apartment means no permanent changing station.) Meanwhile, I had already put Desitin on my finger to rub on to his butt, but in his unhappy flailing, he'd managed to get it on his hand - which he nearly always has in his mouth. So now I'm trying to frantically wipe the Desitin off his hand before it makes its way to the wrong orifice while my husband tries to help with the pad and wipe him down further. Meanwhile, I need to get his partly pee-soaked onesie off (the clean one I put on fifteen minutes earlier) without getting more Desitin everywhere. When my husband goes to dispose of something or other, little Darrell realizes - wait! I'm not empty yet!

And so goes the uncontrolled hose... all over the arm of the couch (my side - incidentally also the arm that the dogs oddly always compulsively lick) and what was left of the changing pad. So now I'm trying to wipe down his tummy, get the rest of the onesie off and block any more geysers. My husband is getting the last of the Desitin fully off his hand while the baby flails and kicks so hard that he kicks... the new Desitin I just put on my finger in hopes of finally getting it on his booty! Somehow I manage to get more Desitin on my finger and then on his buns before it gets to any other of his limbs while my husband finally manages to get the fresh diaper under him. As he fastens the diaper, I find a clean onesie (we've done more laundry for this seven-pound kid in a week than I do for myself in a month, it seems) and pull it over his contorted red face and writhing torso.

There. Done. Now just to calm down the crying.