zeebob

This blog is dedictated to our son, Zander.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

The Hazing Rituals of Parenthood

Earlier today I had my 2-3 week postpartum doctor appointment. It was also mine and Zander's first adventure out of the house alone together. (Can I just say - damn that car seat is heavy!)

No surprise, he woke up hollaring halfway through my appointment. So first he and I had the adventure of breastfeeding in the exam room AND the waiting room. As whats-his-name was finishing his meal, I thought "gosh, someone's stinky." Sure enough, he had filled his diaper and it was creeping out the sides.

I wrangled the stroller-with-car seat-and-baby, myself, and the diaper bag into a three-stall bathroom on the second floor of the East Ann Arbor Health Center. Lo! There was the Baby Changing Station (TM). I parked the stroller in the empty restroom, taking up half the room, and pulled the changing table down from the wall, positioned the baby and the diaper bag, and was all set to go.

Well, first, there were no diaper wipes in the diaper bag. Why this was the case, who can say? I'm sure it was fated to be that way to make this experience all the more profound. Luckily there were a few baby washcloths. Luckily the construction going on at the health center had not also interfered with the plumbing so I was able to use a wet washcloth on my darling son's poopy, stinky butt. He thanked me for that.

He thanked me for that in a very special way.

Leaving my child bare-assed on the changing table (oh I also only had size 1 diapers in this bag for my less than 8# baby), I turned toward the diaper bag to pull out a plastic bag for the stinky diaper (who said that breastfed babies didn't have stinky diapers?!) and as I was turning back I heard a sound. A squishy, squirting sound.

Zander had pooped and peed all over the lap pad, blanket, and changing table. He was pleased with himself. Very pleased. He stopped fussing and just lay there pumping his legs and waving his arms, checking out the lights on the ceiling.

I swiftly wrapped his offending parts in that size 1 diaper and plopped him in the stroller. He didn't think this change in scenery was as interesting and complained to me about it while I cleaned up his mess. A woman came into the restroom while I was strapping Zander down for the car ride home. After the usual exclamations of "oh a new baby" "how cute" etc. she commented that I couldn't be a new mom because I was so calm.

Calm?

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