Me, in my earlier stages of parenting, diapering my child:
- Snorgle baby lovingly all the way to the changing table, where an elaborate set-up involving a plush mattress with organic terry cloth cover, solely invented for diaper changes, lies, adorned with hibiscus petals, in wait for my precious cherub’s little boohiney.
- Open jar of fresh jumbo cotton balls; gently dip each cotton ball in fresh clear warm water that has been heated to exactly 98 degrees Fahrenheit and clean every centimeter of adorable angel’s tushie, poop or no poop, while singing “Jesus Loves Me” completely on key, never once breaking eye contact with baby.
- Stop and smell baby’s precious cuddly head.
- Carefully select the day’s fifth outfit, taking no less than approximately ten minutes to dress baby.
- Snorgle baby back to rocking chair and feed her until she passed out in your arms for two solid hours.
- Stare at her sweet rosy cheeks the entire time.
- Repeat process, for two years.
Me, in my late thirties, diapering my 5th child:
- Lay kid on the floor.
- Run and grab diaper.
- Single-handedly yank onesie open.
- Discover poop accidentally by hand because even though you were looking straight at it, you weren’t paying attention.
- Run to kitchen to wash hand.
- Load dishes in dish washer.
- Pour third cup of coffee.
- Help three year old use the bathroom.
- Wonder why the baby hasn’t woken up from her nap yet.
- Go back to living room floor.
- Sit beside happy gurgling baby on blanket now full of poop.
- Wonder what the smell is.
- Remember everything.