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>

<Grumbles>

<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.

Anyhoo…

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: 'OH MY DAVE GROHL! It's EVERYWHERE!’

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>

[HOWLING AND A BIT SOBBY NOISES]

<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…’

#Blessed

X

Me Swimmin'?

I took BabyBoy2 swimming a while back.

Not all of us. Just me and BabyBoy2.

No odd sibling thrown in, being all focus stealing and such.

Just me and BabyBoy2.

He was pretty happy about it...

BabyBoy2: 'Me swimmin'?' <Cute little head tilt>

Yes mate. You and me, swimming!

BabyBoy2: 'Me swimmin'?'

YEP!

BabyBoy2: 'Not Boy9?'

Nope

BabyBoy2: 'Not Miss5?'

Nope!

BabyBoy2: <Hops up and down due to excitement>

BabyBoy2: 'Me swimmin'!!!' <Runs off to have pretty much same conversation with everyone else in the house, including the Cat>

I don't know why this was the first time.

Really. If I sit and think about it, I cannot understand why I haven't taken BabyBoy2 swimming on my own before. We've gone plenty of times as a family. I took Miss5 and Boy9 solo lots.

BabyBoy2 loves the water and we have a great time splashing about together.

So why not? Bacon knows.

Busy.

I blame busyingtonness (real word). Busy with the other two herberts children. Busy with work. Busy with friends. Busy helping the pub community pub. Busy surfing online growing as person.
Busy filling in endless permission forms...
<Shakes fist at form> YOU KNOW WHERE I LIVE!!!
ARGHHGGGHHHH!!! <Escapes>

Busy with life in general.

There's only so much me that can be spread around.

I'm not Marmite. I don't need to be spread thinly. I'm more chocolate spread.

I am best when applied liberally... I'm also hungry it seems.

Sorry BabyBoy2. I will reduce the time I spend at the pub work cleaning doing other stuff.

And give it to you.

Go on... <Passes present> Open it now...

BabyBoy2: 'Ooo' <Furious unwrapping>

BabyBoy2: <Pulls out a small watch with my name on it>

It’s a bit more of 'my time', for you

BabyBoy2: ‘Ohhh’ <Is disappointed it's not a tractor>
BabyBoy2: <Tries to eat it>

BabyBoy2's huge joy in us going swimming.

Is not that he's going swimming. It's that he's going swimming and the other two (Boy9 & Miss5) are not.

Which may sound a bit mean of him. But really it's not.

BabyBoy2 has watched ALL HIS LIFE (really) Boy9 be taken off swimming twice weekly.

And Miss5 head off swimming with me or Mrs. Amazing once a week.

And he's had to listen to all the drama and faff that go with events like that...

Where did you last see your goggles?

Boy9: 'On my face'

What. Geographical. Location. <Has tension> Did you last see them?

Boy9: 'At the swimming pool

Did you bring them home?

Boy9: <Shrugs shoulders>

Have you even looked for them?

Boy9: 'Yes! Of course!' <Is outraged> '... No'

<Looks for a microsecond> Found them... <Gives Boy9 look>

Boy9: <Take goggles> 'Shotgun the car stereo!' <Runs>

What? No! NO! It doesn't work like that... <Runs too> Driver priv...

<Falls in tangle of towels and shorts> <Swears>

(They’re your goggles?

Boy9: ‘Yep’

That you use for swimming and no one minds, or thinks are dangerous?

Boy9: ‘Yep’

COOL!)

So for BabyBoy2.

This isn't about going swimming. This is about being big enough to go swimming on his own (with a supervising adult).
This is about his Dad managing to stop for a moment and picking him. Just him.

This is about BabyBoy2 being one of the gang. The 'I get to go swimming' gang.

Bless him.

Miss5 was taken swimming lots.

And Boy9 is half fish. But, poor third child, BabyBoy2 only gets a rare solo outing.

I could legally take all three kids on my own (as Boy9 is 8+) and leave Mrs. Amazing to sample wines and 'window' shop. But that would cost us all a fortune I don't want to. As only one child can swim (FishBoy9).

If I took all three alone I'd have two loonies running about, basically trying all they can to drown themselves. And wanting to be thrown in the air constantly.

Which is what Boy9 would be doing as well, but at least he can swim.

No thanks. Not for me. I need my partner in crime, my BatGirl, my Mrs. Amazing for that kind of madness.

<Whispers> Madness...

Anyhoo...

I got up late as normal for a change.

So I was in a huge rush to make the Little Splashers group at the swimming pool with BabyBoy2. Little Splasher's is an early morning thing only (yay).
It's cheaper than normal swimming which is great! It's safer swimming for little ones. And it's cheaper than normal swimming which is great. I know I've put about the price twice, but it's quite a big selling point. Especially as BabyBoy2 is only going to last thirty minutes maximum in the pool. Before his lips go blue.

Miss5 can last forty minutes.

And her lips really do go blue.

I run about the house picking up stuff we both need for swimming:

Shorts for me. Little Wet suit for BabyBoy2. Bottle of water for after.
And snacks to eat in the car before we leave the street for after.

We bundle into the car.

Buckle up. Start engine. Then I leap back out of the car and run into the house.

NAPPY!

Most important.
BabyBoy2 is doing great with his potty training. But... let's just not go there, especially in a pool.

I run past Boy9, Miss5 and Mrs. Amazing shouting 'FORGOT NAPPY'.

I quickly grab a nappy from the tiddly (utility) room and race back out. In fact I grab two. And pat my own back on my excellent Dad skills. Two nappies. Just in case. Always be prepared. YEAH!

I leap back in the car, with BabyBoy2 still sat in the back, tapping his watch...

Right dude, what music do you want?

BabyBoy2: 'Det dit Do(ugh)?'

Was that Floyd I heard? Roses? Queen? Swift? Radiohead? RATM?

BabyBoy2: <Shakes head> 'Det dit dough' <Is sure>
Some Bob Marley?... FINE! Frozen... <Prepares self for singalong>

BabyBoy2: <Prepares self for singalong> (He sings on the 'go'es)

By the time we get there.

I'm pretty excited about it all. This is going to be really good fun.

But my excitement is nothing compared to BabyBoy2's. He's jumping as he walks.

We walk / bounce through the car park, but it's taking ages. I had forgotten how slow this little fella goes sometimes. The Little Splashers hour ends soon. We need to move faster.

I pick him and our speed is increased nineteen thousand fold.

There's a lot less 'Oook!' at cars too (but still some).

(Actually… He'd probably fit him in that bag... Hmmm...)
(I would like to point out that the bag is not mine (I pinched from my Mum ). My bag has Star Wars all over it and is from another, galaxy cheaper, supermarket.
<Waves> Hi Mum!).

We queue.

We change. I am upset that my trunks are boring, and BabyBoy2 has Spidey ones.

We're in the pool and we have the best time.

Seriously.

At one point we had been chuckling together for a solid ten minutes. Wriggling about in the water making each other laugh. We probably nuts (crazy). But I hella don't care.

BabyBoy2 is brilliant. We have such fun. He's hilarious.

Love that little dude.

Then with ten minutes to go.

Before blue lips time. I glance over at BabyBoy2. Who is running off for another go on the tiny pirate slide. And I notice that the shorts he is wearing are tight. Really tight.

Team Parent (yay!) must get him a new pair.

He slides. Drowns a bit. I save him. He loves it.

And of course now I've noticed it. I look again at his shorts as he passes...

And is it just me...
Or are BabyBoy2's shorts shrinking?

BabyBoy2 splashes into me.

We have a bit of a cuddle and then he's up again and off for another go on the slide.

Which is when I find something in the water.

No. Not that. Or that.

My hand finds a clear spherical ball. Like a droplet of water. But with a casing.

I glance down and there's quite a few about.
THAT'S WEIRD!

Brainzilla: 'Come on Lemon. Work it out...'

What?

Brainzilla: 'Tight shorts... Strange balls of water.. Have you seen these balls before?'

Yes... In a nappy... In a nappy that I threw down the stairs and it split...

Brainzilla: 'MU-UP-PET! Come on...' <Taps... er... something>

[Eons pass]

... er...

But swimming nappies don't have the little ball things…

Swimming nappies only catch stuff...

They don't absorb.... Ohhhhh....

BabyBoy2 slides past me again and toddles off.

His shorts are struggling now. They are being stretched from the inside. Ready to explode.

The normal nappy BabyBoy2 is wearing, is trying very hard to absorb the entire swimming pool. It's about half way through.

Crap.

We carry on playing for five minutes hoping no one will notice leave instantly.

And in the changing room I confirm my mistake. Normal nappy.

Normal, quite heavy, super absorbent, I'm quite amazed he could still walk, nappy.

My mind flicks back to earlier. When I dashed into the tiddly room and just grabbed the first nappies I found. There was a lot of choice I recall.
Night time nappies. Daytime nappies. Pull ups. Pull downs. Too small nappies. Giant nappies from the other kids, but didn't use. Cheap nappies. Mega cheap nappies.

And of course, the one's I didn't really look at. The one's I needed.

Swimming nappies.

Annoyingly I recall that I was proud of myself for grabbing two.
Two of the wrong type... Smeg.

Brainzilla: <Sighs> 'Lemon'

<Nods>

(I’m third in from the left)

X