I love Nolan. I truly do.
Be it his defiance of gravity or his ability to build his own worlds, the kid happily careens through his life. Frequently, thankfully, oblivious to the achievements and abilities of his siblings and cousin. Being the youngest means each of the older females in his life have done amazing (and amazingly frustrating) things. He’s especially challenged by his cousin just two months his elder, she’s precious, adorable and comprehends concepts and language at a startling rate. She already casually pronounces and included four syllable words in her daily conversations. Oh, and she’s potty trained already.
Nolan blissfully grunts out his words and show no interest or inclination to becoming potty trained any time soon. He does sometimes sit on the potty (in his diaper) and go ‘wee wee’.
I don’t change many diapers, being an uncle I don’t feel I should have to, that can’t be in the Uncle’s Online Handbook.
Friday challenges that now n’ again. Grandma generally handles diaper duty, something Grandpa and Uncle Byron are truly thankful for; however, Friday Grandma goes to pick Mackenna up from school. The other three take their afternoon naps and then awake to a general cacophony of calls for “GRANDMA!” (especially Kylianne) – again Nolan remains quieter when he awakes.
This Friday, Nolan enjoyed his nap and quietly awoke and when I went to hoist him up out of the playpen… a rank stench assailed my nostrils.
“Nolan, did you go poop?”
“Do you want your bum changed?”
Fine by me. And it was… for a while. I asked him a few more times and each time was a resounding, emphatic “NO!” Until he and I were in one room, Nolan contentedly playing with himself until his precocious cousin Aisling arrived and asked, “What smells?” “Nolan’s diaper.” “Nolan’s stinky!” she said with all the conviction of a two year old, nodded her head, bounced her curls and skipped from the room.
I sighed. Nolan did, indeed, stink.
I sucked in my breath and decided to change his diaper. He fought it for a bit but then flopped on his back and raised his legs in the air. I removed his track pants and…
“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yell.
“What is it?”
“Get in here. NOW!”
Dad rushes into the kitchen where Nolan sprawls on his back with his legs in the air. I’m positive Dad seriously considered running right back out. “Oh”, is about all he can manage to utter “what do you want me to do?”
“Hold his legs.”
With my nephew’s legs thus held upwards I set about changing the dirtiest diaper I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s not that the diaper was full… it was that it was filled to overflowing and had smeared down the backs of one leg.
It took two grown adults totalling 107 to change the diaper of a two year old. It took 3 baby wipes and many held breaths.
After much gagging, a bit of wriggling and some confusion by me with how to put the nappy on the right way round, the dirtiest of diapers had been changed.
Nolan immediately bounded to his feet and stomped off to find a ‘tactor’ or ‘bu’doz’ to play with.
Me and Dad, seriously considered building a raft and setting sail down the mighty Alouette River in November.
Not that I blame Nolan…
I just wish he came with a self-cleaning switch.