Diaper champ

Let's just come right out and say it: yes, Jeff changed all the poopy diapers, three to be exact, when we watched Makayla Levy (just shy of four months old) this past Friday night (Friday, October 17th). I was one heck of a cheerleader though and I only had to leave the room once while gagging and that, my friends, is a considerable fete.

Back during my babysitting days, my recollection is that changing diapers seemed to come fairly naturally. In the past several years though, ever since I changed the sloppiest, nastiest, most rotten diaper of my nephew's (all while I had a winter scarf that I had sprayed profusely with perfume tied to my face about four times around to cover my nose as I still gagged continuously from the stench), it hasn't come as easily for me. I could go into many more details about the seemingly never-ending crap fountain that I faced that day, but I'll spare the gory details.

Luckily, everyone likes to remind me that it will be different when I'm changing my own child, and I sure hope they're right. But especially now, with a nose like a bloodhound, I just couldn't do it. Sorry Makayla, but you sure were a sweetheart, stinky butt and all! She was such a good little girl for us, and we had a really enjoyable time with her. We appreciated that Mike and Missy trusted us enough to give us the opportunity. Both Jeff and I were able to do one of Makayla's feedings, so that was fun too. I was somewhat surprised when I looked over and Jeff was trying to breastfeed her during his, but I figured he must really know what he's doing. After all, he did take a parenting class in college.