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Two Baby Wipes

29 December 2007

Cave BabySo there we were… at Outback Steakhouse in Winchester, finishing up a delicious dinner and ready to head back to our hotel to crash out after a day of driving through the mountains and faux-spelunking at Luray Cavens. Keyven had been wrapped up for most of the meal, but got fussy part way through so we fed him and then I took him to the bathroom for a diaper change. Now, he was semi-wrapped, facing outward and enjoying the lights and people while Tim and I had dessert. Suddenly, there was a round of Kevyen-brand farts and some squirming that led me to believe that we had a loaded diaper.

Let me backtrack a bit here by explaining way more than you want to know about any baby’s diaper activity other than your own. The past couple of weeks, Keyven has gotten in to a pattern of having one poopy diaper every two or three days. In between, he pees more than a dog in a fire hydrant factory and has lots of uninhibited gas-passing. Apparently, it’s perfectly normal for breastfed babies to have multiple days in a row without a bowel movement. And, I must admit, I don’t particularly mind not having to change those multiple times a day.

One of the unfortunate side effects of this routine is that when he does go, it’s a real diaper-filler.  Earlier in the evening when we checked in to the hotel, I found that Keyven had one of his semi-weekly poops.  This time it wasn’t a record-breaker, but it was still a good amount. I gladly changed him for the first time since Christmas and sang the “O Stinky Boy” song to make him laugh while I did it.

So, when I told Tim at the table that I thought Keyven had gone poop again, he didn’t believe me. Twice in one day hasn’t happened in, oh, two weeks or more. Since I declared it was Tim’s turn for a trip to the bathroom, he wanted to wait to check him when we got back to the hotel. I insisted that he do it before we left because I didn’t want Keyven sitting in a poopy diaper all the way there, but he wasn’t convinced a change was in order at all. He thought it was just a bad case of baby farts.

“Stick your finger in there and check him. If you get some on you, I’ll believe you,” Tim joked.

“How about, if I stick my finger in there and get some on me, I’ll flick it in your face and THEN you’ll believe me,” I shot back.

“Okay, let’s make a bet,” he said. This is an inevitable turn of conversation whenever we disagree on something. “If I change him and there’s no poop, then we don’t get to go to IHOP for breakfast in the morning. In fact, no IHOP at all this week.” He knew that I had been craving IHOP corn cake pancakes and that I was thrilled about the presence of one located right in front of our hotel.

“Fine,” I said.

“And no Starbucks the rest of the time you’re here.”

“No deal. IHOP only.” I was sure but not THAT sure.

That settled and the check paid, I went out to pull the car up while Tim and Keyven went to the bathroom. God bless restaurants that are progressive enough to put changing tables in the men’s restrooms as well. We were parked in the back forty (that’s “real far out” for you non-country folks) and I took my time bringing the car up. Then, I waited. And waited. And waited.

My brain went in to new-mom overdrive. What on earth was taking so long? What if Tim left him on the table while he went pee and Keyven rolled off and got hurt? What if Tim dropped him coming out and the waitress had to call 911 and no one would come tell me until the ambulance got there? I decided to give him five more minutes before I went in to find out what was going on. While I waited, logic and rationale resumed working in my head and I figured out it must have been a lot messier than I had originally thought.  I still anxiously watched the clock and looked up every time someone exited the restaurant.

Finally, Tim came out carrying a happy and healthy looking Keyven… a Keyven who was wearing a TOTALLY different outfit than the one he wore going in to the restaurant. The look on Tim’s face was not one of happiness. He got in the back and started putting Keyven in the car seat.

“Uh, how did it go?” I asked, with a chuckle.

“Shut up. I’m not talking to you,” he replied. And he looked like he meant it. But I was already laughing and he couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“Two baby wipes,” he said, “You left me with TWO baby wipes to clean off a kid who had poop from his knees all the way up to his chin. There was poop on his legs, on his butt, on his stomach, on his back. I even got poop in my eye!”

Side Note: In all fairness to Keyven, the poop in the eye was a result of Tim wiping his own eye mid-change with poop on his finger. To date, no cases of conjunctivitis or pink eye have been reported.

I couldn’t help it. The thought of such a scene was too funny to not laugh at his expense and every time I tried to be serious, I burst out laughing again. “So, I guess we’re going to IHOP for breakfast tomorrow, huh?”

“Two baby wipes. TWO!!! That’s all you left me with for a diaper change messier than the Exxon Valdez oil spill.” Tim was NOT amused.

“Well, I’m not the only one capable of stocking a diaper bag,” I retorted, “But look at it this way, honey. That one diaper change makes up for all the blow-outs you’re going to get out of over the next year.” There was a grumble of reluctant agreement from the backseat and I tried to make it back to the hotel without snorting in laughter again.

Once we arrived, it was painfully obvious that two baby wipes and some toilet paper had not been enough. Even after the spare outfit change from the diaper bag at the restaurant, we had to change Keyven’s clothes again. His skin had a mustard-yellow hue, with remnants of the disaster literally from head (he had it under his chin) to toe (it was all over the bottom of his foot), and he smelled to high heaven. A quick bath, another diaper change and a warm fleecy sleep sack later, all was returned to normal in Keyven’s world and Tim-daddy’s pride had healed a little from its traumatic experience.

Oh, and I’m pleased to say that a nice breakfast of corn cake pancakes tastes even better when you win it fair and square.

8 Comments leave one →
  1. Jes (ASIL- almost sister-in-law) permalink
    31 December 2007 14:33

    Keyven just wanted to give daddy a little something to remember him by 🙂

  2. Tams permalink
    31 December 2007 15:36

    Oh my gosh!!! I can’t stop laughing!!! THAT is a story to tell on Keyven’s first date!!! LOL!!! Happy New Year to you all!!!! Sending the very best of blessings your way today, and always!!!


  3. Sarah permalink
    31 December 2007 22:04

    i laughed so hard i peed myself. almost. good work tim!

    happy new year to all!

  4. Iris permalink
    1 January 2008 00:59

    LOL!LOL!LOL! Happy new year, Lori, Tim and Keyvan!

  5. 2 January 2008 22:05

    I kept telling Tim he’d find it funny someday, but so far he hasn’t started agreeing with me yet. I bet he won’t doubt my new-found Mommy’s Stinky Diaper skills again, though!

  6. 5 January 2008 17:37

    ROFL – that is the best! I LOVE it!!!!
    (love the tat above – whose is it?)

  7. Grandpa Olson permalink
    8 January 2008 18:01

    I hate to tell you, but that one diaper change will NOT make up for all the poop you’re going to have to clean up over the next year. The blow-outs get bigger and bigger!

  8. 10 January 2008 10:46

    Tammi — the tat is Tim’s. I’ll be posting a Tim-daddy blog soon with some better pics.

    I hope at least I will have the good fortune to have more than two baby wipes for future blow outs. Then again, karma’s a beotch.

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