Today will go down in household infamy as the day of the Great Diaper Debacle. It began so innocently as the playful yap of my daughter lulled me out of sleep circa 6:15 a.m. I heaved myself into the bitter cold of a house hell-bent on conserving its energy and hobbled into the baby's room, hunch backed and dragging one leg behind me. That is me in the morning. I catch no worms.

Anyway, so I get to Tolby's crib, where I spy a wide circle of wetness on the mattress in the rough vicinity of her head. What? Could she have been working on that thumb with such vigor that her baby-drool cast this inordinately wide swath around her? I scratched my head. One would not think so. Perhaps it was pee. But why, then, in the name of all that is holy, would she defile herself in this way and proceed to rotate so that her head is lying in the puddle? The girl cannot even roll over, yet she can spin on her axis like a globe on crack.

I ran my hands over her rear end in the fearless way that only a mother who has been shat upon multiple times can pull off and noticed that it felt dry. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though, since she was wearing approximately ten layers of absorbant fleece. I brought her over to the changing table. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.

I unzipped one layer, unsnapped another and removed yet one more on my way to the innermost layer of protection--the Huggie. BUT THE DIAPER WASN'T THERE! My eyes bugged out of my head as her girl parts winked back at me. Now, my first inclination (and this says a lot about me) was to doubt myself. Had I forgotten to put on a diaper when I prepared my darling daughter for bed the night before? Had I fallen so far into the insanity of the fourth trimester that I would never be able to extricate myself? Could my alcohol tolerance have been so depleted by pregnancy that one glass of wine turned me into the poster parent for unfit mothering? Yes. Clearly I suck. There was no other explanation. I stared at her nakedness for awhile before resigning myself to my incompetence. With a sigh, I began to scrub down her nasty ass with a wipey. It wasn't till I pulled off the left leg of her blanket sleeper that I was exonerated. There, in a reeking ball lined with fleece lint, stuck down where Tolby's foot should be, was the true offender--a Huggies diaper that had come undone.

Except for the fact that it was still ungodly early, all was right with the world. I was not negligent. I was not dirty. I apparently have some major issues, as evidenced by the fact that I was so quick to assume that it was my fault in the first place, but at least the truth had restored some of my confidence.

I went back to my bed, shoved a boob in Tolby's face, and drifted to sleep secure in the knowledge that it is Huggies that suck, not I.


Anonymous roxie carol said...

Know what else sucks? The lack of table scraps for the dog around here.

8:01 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm still trying to recover froim laughter - tears, girl you brought tears to my eyes!

I too would have been quick to assume that I had forgotten the diaper, what does that say about us?

8:01 PM  
Blogger Michelle :) said...

I haven't read your blog in awhile...but oh girl, reading it now is awesome!! The diaper story...PRICELESS!! Hang in there...you are a great Mommy and you know it!!

8:13 PM  
Anonymous mga0306 said...

that was great! I even read it to my DH who got a kick out of it!!! Thanks for picking up my evening :-)

7:49 PM  

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