When Diapers Attack

26 Aug

Diaper rash sucks. If you don’t believe me, ask my wife who has had to deal with a screamy baby all day. Simply unconsolable, Baby Nolan’s butt hurts and that’s a fact. I truly feel bad for them both. Listen — anyone who wants to say that being a stay-at-home mom is easy is as high as Miley Cyrus at the VMAs. It is a 24-hr/day, 365 days/year job! Think about that… You practically never get away. All those times when the commute home reminds you that there are ~14 hours until you have to deal with your boss again….Moms don’t get that. And I guarantee that their boss screams at them more than yours does. I have gained a whole new respect for my wife since she made the decision to stay home. I don’t know if either Noles or myself would survive me staying home and we definitely wouldn’t get anything accomplished. I truly appreciate the sacrifice that Josie has made to raise our little boy. (Also, please know that I’m not discounting Mom’s who  work and still are the phenomenal parent they are every evening.) But enough mushy-gushy soapboxing, back to poopy diapers!

This diaper rash stuff doesn’t mess around. It comes on quickly, with little-to-no warning, completely terrorizing butts worldwide. And even though it happens at some point to practically all babies, you still feel pretty horrible when you are having to deal with it. It is as if you let your child down by letting their poor tush get so chafed.
Let me tell some backstory here.
We recently ran out of our vast supply of breast milk (Nolan once called his mom a “milk factory”, and lived to tell about it… Brave he is) and are now purely a formula household. I kind of liked the whole formula gig at first because it doesn’t require so much forward planning to thaw enough milk while not spoiling any. And it is simple: Water + Powder = happy baby, right? Wrong. More like Water + Powder = gassy fussy poop monster mess. To top it off, formula really smells horrible too! No wonder the waste laid in Huggies around the world is so foul. Well Noles is the foulest of the foul when laying waste, and I would put his smelly butt up against any baby’s, anywhere. It is said that breastfed babies have less raunchy smelling feces, but even then Nolan’s was downright bothersome to the nose. This should have been our clue that formula would only be worse, but we still are shocked every time we change a diaper.
So now we love on a smelly, fussy, gas-filled 16 pounds of pure man that poops what seems like constantly. Hey, that would hurt my rear end too! (I have no problem talking about poop this much, which is either a sign that I’m a true dad, or a true man. I accept either title).

Forward on to tonight. I had been fairly warned that our Monster was in rare form on this day, so I prepared for the worst. I don’t even know what the worst is, but I was completely emotionally prepared for it. I walk in to my door to the sound of….nothing? Silence? What!? That couldn’t be right, so I do what any man would do. I break it. I start singing my latest favorite boy band song, Best Song Ever, to which Mrs Pickle greats me from around the corner with a resounding “SHHHHHH!”. Ah! The Nolanator is/was asleep — whoops. But now that I’ve ruined his nap I sit down and start talking to him, turn on some baseball, lay down on the floor beside him… Then I smell it. You know, IT. Time to change that stinky diaper!

I hadn’t seen the starting stages of the diaper rash in days past, but I saw it tonight — at what we hope is it’s worst. No, we haven’t stood by idly and let this rash spread like a wildfire.. We’ve applied every remedy we could think of to his butt over the past couple of days but nothing has worked. Tonight we went to Plan D, good ol’ fashioned Bag Balm. He seems happier and more comfortable already but only time will tell if it finally does do the trick. It should, if for no other reason than the fact that we’ve literally slathered it on with a stick.

These obstacles are some of the hardest pieces to fit together when you’re a new parent: deciding not only what is working or will work on your baby, but also when to switch options; when do you throw in the towel. I have stated that sentiment in a variety of ways over the past year since I found out we were expecting.  Yes, there is some comfort in the fact that our baby won’t remember how red his little butt is, or how much it hurts him. He won’t hold this against us and put us into a nursing home at age 67 — at least I hope not! But overall it is a helpless feeling to not really know what to do, or what exactly will help this situation. Sure it is exciting to figure it out, and success makes you feel like you’re truly the world’s greatest parent…

And you probably are. That is, until the next time that diapers attack!

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