Each morning, as I approach my daughter’s room, my heart races with hope—perhaps today would be different. My eyes dart around the room, searching for any signs of success. And there it is, unmistakably on the floor near her crib: her diaper, the very one I had secured before her nap. She looks up at me with her sparkling green eyes and cheerfully exclaims, “Hi! Pooh Bear! No no!” while pointing at the diaper on the ground.
This has become a daily ritual for the past two months. Occasionally, it’s a mess of poop, sometimes just pee, and on particularly delightful days, both. I’ve become quite versed in the art of what doesn’t work—yes, I meant to say that twice. Join me as we navigate this chaotic adventure together; it might be my ordeal, but your amusement is assured.
It all started with subtle hints that something was amiss. My daughter began removing her shirt during the day, or would tug it down until just one arm was exposed. Then came the naps, where I would find her shirt in various states of disarray. She even managed to pull her footed pajamas down to her waist, leaving her flailing her arms like a windmill.
Then came that infamous morning when I walked in to discover she was completely undressed. Well, that’s not quite accurate—she was covered in poop. Dehydration had led to her producing little pellets, which she cleverly flung around her crib. To add to the chaos, she smudged some on her skin and even took a taste. Thankfully, my husband was already out the door for work, leaving me to whisk her away for an emergency bath while my mother-in-law valiantly tackled the clean-up.
Thinking this was a one-off incident, we continued with our lives, blissfully unaware. Then, time and again, I would find her diaper discarded on the floor. I quickly honed my skills in changing crib sheets, disinfecting the crib, and scrubbing the carpet and walls.
In the mornings, my husband would typically get her up while I relaxed in bed. Many days, I would hear him enter her room, followed by her cheerful babble, his low voice, and the unmistakable sound of running water—water running meant a poop situation. A memorable moment occurred one night when he entered to soothe her cries, only to discover bare shoulders instead of the expected diaper.
Duct tape became our new best friend, and then an old acquaintance as she learned to remove it. We tried longer strips, but she managed to defeat that too. Cold baths followed every poop incident, and discipline became a challenge—who wants to discipline a child covered in poop? I would solemnly point at the diaper on the floor and say, “No, no!” Eventually, she began cheerfully anticipating my reaction, pointing and saying, “No, no!” before I could even react.
Recently, we traveled to Texas to visit family. When we travel, my daughter sleeps in a small kid’s tent, which I thought would deter her from removing her clothes. I was mistaken. While sitting with my husband’s family, he walked in holding our naked daughter at arm’s length, leading her straight to the bathroom as the bath water gushed.
Time and again, she would hand us her diaper, exclaiming “poopoo,” regardless of its state. The one saving grace I found was a type of onesie that snaps between the legs—thank heavens! However, I have a limited supply, and putting it on her with fleece pajamas leads to overheating. Sigh.
If you find yourself in a similar predicament (and I can’t be the only one), take heart—you are not alone. I’ve learned to chuckle at this (not in front of my daughter, of course) and I know this will make for a hilarious story at her wedding rehearsal dinner. While this phase can be messy (pun intended), I’m grateful for her naps, her tiny fingers to remove her diaper, and the miracle of a washing machine. Focusing on the small blessings has given me a new perspective on this rather amusing trial.
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Summary: This humorous recounting captures the challenges faced by a mother dealing with her toddler’s refusal to keep her diaper on, detailing the trials, tribulations, and unexpected messes that ensue. With a light-hearted tone, the piece emphasizes the importance of gratitude amidst parenting chaos.