Lately changing Rachel’s diaper has been rather a challenge. I have moved the entire operation to the twin bed in Rachel’s room, because the changing table offers too many temptations for her. She pulls the diapers down off the shelf, she reaches for anything and everything. So now I change her diaper on the bed. It is still quite a challenge, because she is such a wiggle bug.
Of course, I do have a powerful weapon at my disposal – blowing a razzberry on her belly. Not to be outdone, Rachel has her own counter weapon – grabbing my hair. But in the end, I always prevail.
(Rachel elbows her mommy aside to tell her side of the story.)
Dat whole wazzbewwy bizness is so unfair. When Mommy bwows a wazzbewwy, I must stop and waf. I can’t help myself. You twy it, you’ll see what I mean. But never fear, with my wightening fast hands, I gwab her hair. But Mommy is wight, she always gets my diaper on me, in spite of my bwave battle. But today, I had a wittle twick up my sweeve, or wather my diaper (hahaha – sinister wafter).
(Noelle here to tell the rest of the story.)
So earlier this afternoon, we went through the normal diaper change battle, and I thought that was it. Rachel took a nap, and when she woke up I went to change her diaper again. It was a poopie diaper (of course), and what did I find? During the earlier diaper change, Rachel managed to get one of her loose socks in her diaper, so there it was, covered in poop. I seriously do not know how it got there. That Rachel is a tricky one sometimes.