The Double Decker

Since I leave to go on my photography adventures, my wife returned the favor. She left me. All alone. With the kids. At the time, a 3 year old and a 1 year old. But while mom was taking a well-deserved break, I was ready to take on the challenge. When I’m in these 2-on-1 situations, I often take wildlife photos. One fine autumn day, I had a floordrop out on the front patio, set out some interesting toys, grabbed a bag of pretzels, and, with my camera in hand, waited. It didn’t take long for the action to begin. Our little one, Adelyn, started grimacing. The poop face. Nailed it. While I wasn’t paying attention, my eldest, Emerson, headed inside at some point during the photo shoot. A bit later the baby and I go in the house to grab a clean diaper and wipes. I check on Emmie. “Whatcha up to sweetheart?” The response: “Pooping.” Oh dear. Two messes to clean up now. Live in the moment I say. Take one at a time I tell myself.

Enjoy this and every moment. They don’t tend to last very long.

The baby and I grab our gear and head back outside. I lay her down and she starts crying. I give her Derby: big sister’s new stuffed horse. Not helping. We open it up. It’s bad. It’s multiple wipe job bad. Pull out a wipe. Last one. Now during the wipe selection process, I was fully aware of a new and unopened package of wipes. But I specifically took the open one because I’m a “wants to use things up before opening anything new” kind of guy. Thanks Dad.

I’m going to have to make due. I slide the diaper out of the way and wipe. Then fold. Then wipe. Baby starts going after the dirty diaper. I give it another half slide, half toss. It tips and smears on the floordrop. Whatever. That’ll clean up easy later. In the split second of my decision making process, baby was already sliding and on the move. Reaching towards the smear. I get her just in time. Let’s finish lap one up.

Serenity now. Insanity later.

Big sister comes out saying, “I need a diapie change.” No shit. Starting lap two. I go in and grab that brand spanking new package of wipes. Clean up the smear. We’re doing good. But somehow this one is worse than her sister’s. It’s like she sat on top of a chocolate cake. Lots of frosting. Then little sister gets interested and starts sliding over. I’m furiously wiping. Sister is getting closer. Wipe, fold, wipe. And closer. Fold. Then I see her reach. No way, she’s too far away. Wipe. She somehow Stretch Armstrong’s it and gets her hand in there. I figure this is as bad as it can get. Then she starts swatting her sister with her pooped up hand.

After somehow, someway I get everything cleaned up and restore some order I go find my pretzels. At least this’ll make me happy. They taste like crap. At some point during this journey, the baby got ahold of them and de-salted them one by one. I also notice for the first time that I have someone’s crap on my hand. I think I need a trip.