Wasn't Hasselhoff the one who posed nude in Playgirl clutching a bulldog puppy in front of his penis?
That convent? She's looking
real
good right about now. As is the brain bleach.
Dude, I've been on pelvic rest since, like October!
I can't not read this as Goolie No-Fly Zone (TM a funnier Buffista than I).
And my sleepy meds are making me just that. I came back to this post to edit some sense into it and instead I am seeing word rivers that refuse to be tamed. Or make sense. That will come with morning. Night 'ffistas...
I can't not read this as Goolie No-Fly Zone (TM a funnier Buffista than I).
Are you commonly troubled by flying goolies?
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What the hell are you supposed to do when they turn over and try to stand up/crawl away on the changing table? I can't hold her down, because then I wouldn't have my hands to change her with. So right now she's in the playpen half-dressed crying while I seethe with inappropriate anger and wait for DH to get out of the shower so I'll have a spare pair of hands.
I know all babies must do this, but I have no idea what to do about it.
Oh, I'd forgotten all about the twisty-turners. I hate the twisty-turning stage. First, can you rearrange some furniture such that her changing table is in a corner, right next to two walls? If you put her head up by the end with two walls, and you're standing on her side, her only open angle is where her feet are, and *you'll* be less freaked that she's going to fall and get hurt. For what it's worth, I think this passes quickly, and once it does, will only be an issue again, if she has a sore bum, and doesn't want to be wiped. Feel free to impart the curse in your most saccharine voice, "I hope when you grow up, you have one Just Like You," over and over. That might help with *your* frustration.
I think I did the floor thing once or twice in desperation (and put a big bath towel underneath, and then the waterproof pad), but with my kids, that was worse. I'm pretty sure the times I most struggled changing the twisty-turners was when we weren't home in the first place, and I was changing them on someone's floor or bed, which made them think they had free rein to crawl and play.
Mostly, I just flipped 'em back over, and then spoke sternly and seriously. I would put the baby back onto his/her back and put on a mad face. I didn't yell, but I would say,
No! Stop! Lie Down!
and things like
Danger!
and
Boo-boo!
and
You'll fall Down! Boo-boo!
in my sharpest, stern voice (sometimes with a dose of worry thrown in). They get the meaning of the words through cues in your tone of voice, and facial expressions.
My kids were all really stout-legged at that age. All their weight that wasn't in their enormous heads seemed to be in their legs, and their legs were strong. Eventually I was able to hold their ankles between fingers in my left hand even when they were struggling, so their legs (and sometimes bums) were up off the surface of the table, meaning they had less leverage, and I still had a hand free to perform the cleansing. They'd still flip over sometimes, though.
You might bring an interesting, otherwise forbidden object to the changing table. Use common sense--nothing too fragile that will break in her hands, or too heavy, such that she'll hurt herself if she bangs herself on the head, but something you wouldn't otherwise let her have.
I also used to make sure everything was absolutely ready before I even started the change: diaper and some wipies already out, lotion already opened, clothes ready to go, etc., so that I could go as quickly as possible. Try changing her as much you can (like taking off her clothes) with her sitting up, or standing, so she gets less bored. Keep the time on her back to an absolute minimum.
It will pass. It will suck until it passes, but it will pass.
Timelies. I must now get dressed and start painting. Bleargh.
You could paint naked, Anne.
Timelies, all. I bought "Grovestand" orange juice at the store yesterday. I hate pulp in my juice.
You could paint naked, Anne.
The thought of having to scrub paint of my skin is just... no. The old t-shirt and decrepit jeans (aka the full-body-bib) have already been deployed. As soon as I cover the couch and put down drop cloths, the ceiling painting begins.
Nonian, can you pour the juice through a strainer? That's what I do when I'm not in the mood for pulpy juice. (normally I like pulp, but sometimes I don't).
Happy
Birthday
WindSparrow!
Ooh! Happy birthday, indeed.
t didn't want Andi to miss it while skimming tonight
