Twenty-six months into the dirty-diaper stage of life, I have learned a few handy tricks, one of which I would like to share with you today: How to tell if the diaper is dirty.
Sometimes this fact is obvious. Sometimes the poop is such that the stain is visible through the outer layers of plastic. Sometimes it has exploded out a leg or is just so odiferous that it's like a blackjack applied to your sinuses by John Dillinger himself.
Most times, however, the miracle of the modern disposable diaper is such that you cannot tell through these low-effort methods. Instead, you must tread inside the diaper's realm in order to determine its cleanness or lack thereof.
One thing you should know about our diapering methods is that every one of the Big O's diapers comes complete with Desitin. We never put one on without. We see it as a precautionary method.
One bonus advantage of Desitining is that the diaper material tends to ride up the crack and become cemented there. Merely pulling back the diaper from the child's spine will reveal that the diaper is still in place. If it is not cemented up the crack, then the child has pooped. Even if you can't see the poop, it's there. Pulling out the leg elastic would reveal its presence. But that less preferable method of checking is not necessary because the butt check is foolproof. It is wrong fewer than one diaper per four months.
The Big O is flirting with his potty. He likes thre praise he receives after successfully putting something in the pot, but most of the time it's not worth the bother. Or his timing's off. So this morning when he said he wanted to go, I first checked his diaper to see if it had been crapped. Nope. The Desitined diaper was still cemented in place.
Since I knew he might be going at any second, I just undid the velcro and pulled off the diaper, sending a fist-sized pile of poo flying through the air. As it spun, it let off a pinwheel of poop fragments, spinning through the air. The hub of this geenish-gold pinwheel then plopped onto the Big O's shoulder.
"LADY STEEEEEEED!!!!!" I screamed, as is my wont in situations like this. "HEEELP!!!"
She was making æbleskivers, but ran to the bathroom anyway.
"What? what? what?"
"I NEED WIIIPES!!!" as the shoulder poop fell to the floor.
She got them for me and I started cleaning up the Big O.
Then I got Lysol wipes and cleaned up the floor, the cabinet, the trash can.....
Which was too full, by the way, so my wiped-up excrement kept falling out. So I took the bag out, shook everything down, and stood it up against the door--unsteadily as it ended up--and had to clean up the floor all over again.
Twenty-six months into the dirty-diaper stage of life, and I'm only now flinging poop onto my son and throughout the bathroom.