Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).

2 March 2018

Done With Nappies...

I've been scared to write this post.
I didn't want to jinx it.
But now I think it is time.
Four months ago, the last of the nappies left our house.
BabyBoy3 switched to toilets...

[Weird handle noises]
What the smeg is that noise? <Sits up in bed>
What is the time <Bashes Stormtrooper clock on the head> ... It's...
I can't read it... my eyes aren't working yet...
Mrs. Amazing: <Leans over me> 'It says five am'
<Groans> Ow... Who's going to check...
<Mrs. Amazing has magically rolled over and is snoring away in a very deep sleep, surprisingly suddenly>
... I'll go check shall I…
Mrs. Amazing: <Snoring sounds>
<Finds BabyBoy3 trying to flush the loo>
BabyBoy3: 'Hallo Daddy!'
Dude! Well done. Did you wash your hands?
BabyBoy3: <Runs>
<Just goes back to bed>

(He’s getting better with the toilet paper!
Mrs. Amazing: ‘In what way?’
… er… er... he’s not is he…
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Nope’)

It’s a bit weird to be honest.
Over the last ten and a half years. Team Parent (yay!) have been buying and attaching nappies to at least one of our children. Sometimes many times a day. Over and over. Day out, day in. For ten damn years.
We both got pretty darn good at it. It became like making a cup of tea. Something you can do on autopilot. In the dark. In a car. Singing.
Even whilst on the phone to Mum (not sorry Mum).

Each Team Parent (yay!) member had their own nappy approach.
Both had our own ways of keeping the child still. Mrs. Amazing spoke of exciting and engaging things, keeping the child's attention on her through the magic of audible words.
I tried that.
Didn’t work so well. Singing worked for me better (for reals) or failing that I went very cerebral and pulled a torch out of my pocket, and shined it up my nose. It's well cool try it.

I still remember my first nappy.
It was a magical moment when the honour and responsibility of being a father really hit home.
There I was. Young. Had hair. Thought I knew what tired was.
Boy0 very tiny in front of me. Black tar like poo all over his butt.
Me asking if poo like black tar was normal (it is).

To help me clean the young lad.
I had some truly awesome cleaning materials to help me in my task:
  1. A tiny tub of warm water.
  2. Extra soft cotton wool.
As you cannot use anything rougher than a fairy's butt on a newborn's skin.
Mrs. Amazing lay next to us. Awake but shattered, having given birth the night before.
I had had no training on nappies ever. Let alone newborns. I am one of four boys. We didn’t play dolls. We played bundles.
I literally had no frame of reference of what to do.
I knew the end result though. Clean Boy0 bum. Nappy vaguely attached.
I at least had a goal to aim for.

(That tiny… Now which one was this again?
Smelly? Screamy? Or Nutter?)

And just in case that wasn’t hard enough.
In case I hadn’t put myself on the spot enough.
My Mum, her Mum, and Mrs. Amazing were all watching me work.
Brain surgeons, bomb disposal-ers (??) have no idea what pressure is.


Ten years is 3650 days.
I think a fair average would be two nappies a day. Obviously newborn babies can get through ten+ a day, whereas BabyBoy3 in his last dregs of nappies, was once a morning. So two a day seems fair.
Making 7300 nappies Team Parent (yay!) have attached to bottoms.
That's a lot of clean bottoms.

And then suddenly it stopped.
BabyBoy3 stopped needing nappies. And I feel like I've a great skill, nappy changing, that has suddenly become utterly redundant in my life. No one down the pub cares about my nappy skills. No one. Gutted.
Surely there must something similar I could use these skills for. There's a lot muscle memory there that is going to go to waste.
Maybe wrapping potatoes in newspaper... But no. That's crap.
It just seems a shame.

By the end BabyBoy3 was giving us clear signs.
His morning nappy would be empty, aside from a bit of wee.
He wasn’t having any accidents.
He would sometimes remove his happy on his own, wee in the potty, and then bring us the nappy.
Subtle, well hidden, signs that only well experienced parents could pick up on.

It hasn't all been plain sailing.
It fact there have been times when the poo hit the fan. As it were.
I learnt my lesson early about diving in for a change too early. And then having to spend the next thirty minutes holding someone's legs in the air... Whilst they finished.
And whilst Mrs. Amazing died of laughing.
The joy of changing a nappy. Cleaning up, putting everything in the bin. And then watching as the child suddenly dons their poo face.
That swimming incident: ‘Me Swimmin’?
And the legendary horror of a child taking their own, very full up, nappy off, in a cot.
Luckily for me I didn't go in first. My little brother (their Uncle) was over and as a treat for him, I suggested he would get a kick out of waking up our little one after their lunch time nap...

It was be really sweet. Trust me, he'll be happy to see you!!!
Uncle: 'OK'
[Goes into room]
Uncle: 'MY EYES!!!! ARGHH!!! THE SMELL!!!’
Uncle: 'I'm melting, mellltinngggg...'

He may have overreacted a bit.
But then I went in myself and it was pretty horrible. It’s hard to know what happened in there. Or why. Or how it had got so bad. It took ages to clean up.
Poor, poor brother. Ahhhaaaahaaahaaaahaaaaaa!

But the nappies are done.
Gone. The last of them were bagged up and given to nursery. Mrs. Amazing did it. She was very nonchalant about it.

(Some people say it with flowers, we say it with poo holders…)

Glad to see the back of them I suppose.

For me if feels like my babies are all growed up (growed is how it's said in my house).
And using the toilet and stuff. It’s cool. The end of era. A real mark in the sand saying your days with babies are past you old man.
<One eye starts leaking>
I’m fine about it really. All zen and stuff. Just going with the flow.
Circle of life and all that stuff.
<Other eye starts up, faster than the other>
It’s not as though it was some the greatest moment of my life or anything.
... Excuse me... <Runs>
<Returns red faced, red eyes, running nose>
Frankly. I think babies are amazing.
I’ll miss having my own.

However, worry ye not!
Off we head onto new adventures! Toilet related adventures. Boooooo!
I’ve had to unblock the toilet at least five times this year already. yay.
Due to BabyBoy3 and his generous toilet paper approach to butt wiping.
And then there’s these golden moments, which I wouldn’t miss for the world…

BabyBoy3: ‘Daddy?’
<Wakes> yeah mate… what’s up? <Bangs clock, ARGH-O’Clock>
BabyBoy3: <Clambers on to me for a hug>
Hey? … Er… Where are your pyjama bottoms?
BabyBoy3: ‘I had a poo!’
Oh bacon I hope you wiped well…
BabyBoy3: ‘No paper…’

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