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[ Finalist No. 3 ]
The diaper
One crucial detail was missing from this dad's post-bath drill.

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By Kathy Schmidt

June 15, 1999 | Our firstborn son, Ryan, was 8 weeks old and it was time for me to go back to work. I really hated the idea of not being with Ryan all day, not seeing every little smile and hearing those little cooing sounds he made, but my husband and I thought we had the perfect plan for my return to work. My husband Dave works for a national cable-TV station four nights a week. We had opposite days off, and on the two days where we overlapped he would be with Ryan until 1 p.m., then take him over to our neighbor's house until I got home at 6 p.m. No daycare, no long hours at a baby sitter's and best of all, Ryan and Dave would get some real, quality, father-son time.

Until Ryan was born, Dave really hadn't been around kids much, much less a slightly colicky 8-week-old. I was a little nervous, but I figured it was much better than daycare and somehow we would work it all out. I just kept reminding myself what a great thing that Dave was doing and how lucky I was to be married to him.




special

Drama Queen Contestants

Mike Tuciarone
This dad's hubris caught up with him at the bottom of the big kids' slide.

Queen Elvis
Cleanup time (and a little revenge) for a dad who tried not to bother the in-laws.

Kathy Schmidt
One crucial detail was missing from this dad's post-bath drill.

Vote now!

What is Drama Queen?


The big day came: my first day back at work. Dave and I must have gone over Ryan's schedule a million times. I made all the bottles for the day, laid out three different outfits (in case of spit-up emergencies) and posted the numbers of the doctor, the hospital and what to do in case Ryan was choking on the refrigerator. I gave my son one more hug and Dave reassured me that they would be fine. I left with tears in my eyes.

I called them when I got to work and Dave said everything was great. "Don't worry," he said, "we'll be fine." So with that, I decided to try and put them out of my mind for a little while and get back to the piles of papers that had built up on my desk for eight weeks.

About an hour later the phone rang. When I heard Dave's voice on the other end I just about dropped the phone and ran out the door. Something horrible must have happened if he's calling me, I thought. I yelled into the phone "What happened, is Ryan OK, where are you, where's Ryan, what's wrong?"

"Well, we had a little accident," he said.

"What!" I yelled again into the phone as I was grabbing my keys ready to head out the door.

"Don't worry, nothing major," Dave said. "Ryan is fine."

"OK, well then, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to calm myself down, as I had begun to elicit some stares from people around my office.

"Well, I was giving Ryan a bath, and that went fine. Then I got him dressed and I was holding him, walking downstairs, when I felt something wet on my chest. Then Ryan made that face -- you know, when he has to poop -- and, well, then I felt that on my shirt too." He hesitated. "I kinda forgot to put his diaper on when I got him dressed after his bath."

"How could you forget to put his diaper on?" I asked, thinking that maybe this was Dave's way of making me feel better that I was at work and not at home.

"Well, I've never given him a bath before and every time I've changed him I've taken a diaper off, then put one on immediately after. But this time I was so worried about getting him dressed after his bath I just started to put on his clothes from the pile that you left out for us, and I guess I just forgot."

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry now -- I mean, I just couldn't understand how someone could forget to put a diaper on an 8-week-old child. Wasn't this one of the first things we learned in that parenting class we took, how to change a diaper? If a daycare provider were telling me this story I would have stormed out right then and there, picked up Ryan and never gone back. But this wasn't just a daycare provider, it was my husband and Ryan's father.

I took a deep breath and laughed. Dave seemed relieved that I was laughing, and he laughed, too.

"I'm glad you left more clothes out," he said, "but I swear, this time I remembered to put a diaper on."

"You put the diaper on Ryan, right?" I said, just to get one last zing in.

"Funny, Kathy, very funny," he said.

We now have a second child, a little girl named Hannah. I am still working full time and Dave is still taking care of the kids three days a week. Dave always tells me that he feels so lucky to be able to spend so much time with the kids, even if he doesn't do things exactly the way I might like him to. He has never forgotten to put on a diaper again, though he still needs some improvement with putting on Hannah's clothes the right way. But it's nothing major. As a friend of mine said to me recently, no one has been scarred for life from wearing their clothes backwards.

Mike Tuciarone | Queen Elvis | Kathy Schmidt | Vote now!
salon.com | June 15, 1999

 

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