Hi! I'm Lindsay Ferrier. You might remember me from a blog called Suburban Turmoil. Well, a lot has changed since I started that blog in 2005. My kids grew up, I got a divorce, and I finally left the suburbs for the heart of Nashville, where I feel like I truly belong. I have no idea what the future will hold and you know what? I'm okay with that. Thrilled, actually. It was time for something totally different.
April 5, 2009
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One thing I’ve learned as a mom is to expect the unexpected. But even I was surprised to find that a brand of diapers could cause major drama in our house.
My husband came home the other day with diapers featuring pictures from the movie, Cars. I usually buy the cheaper Kroger brand for Bruiser. Consequently, when my son saw new diapers featuring his favorite, favorite movie characters…
He freaked.
“Race cars!” he crowed. “Race cars race!” Eagerly, he stepped into a pair. “Cars!” he shouted, pointing at his diaper. “Race cars!” I started to put pants on him. “No, no!” he said, trying to pull the pants off again. “Cars! Ahnt Race Cars!”
This was going to be interesting.
Eventually, Bruiser conceded to wearing pants, but each time he encountered someone new, he’d point to his groin. “Race cars race!” he’d shout importantly. What was worse, every hour or so, I’d turn around and catch him with both pants and diaper off.
“More race cars!” he’d announce. “Ahnt more cars!”
Not surprisingly, we went through an entire package of “Cars” diapers in record time.
“We are never getting these diapers again,” I muttered to Hubs after my 23rd diaper change in two days. “This is ridiculous.”
And so, when my stepdaughters stopped by the grocery yesterday afternoon, I asked them to bring home Kroger diapers for Bruiser. Once Bruiser had decided it was time for yet another diaper change, I brought out a Kroger pull-up, with its familiar (albeit, strange) images of a little man and a bunch of tools.
“We’re out of Cars diapers, Bruiser,” I said carefully. “These are all we have now.”
And that’s when the screaming began.
“NOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO! Ahnt RACE CARS!!! BWAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGAGHHHHH!”
I grappled with Bruiser for a moment and managed to wrangle a diaper onto him. Instantly, he dropped to the ground, screaming and writhing in a fury.
“Noooooo! NOOOOOOO! AHHNNNNT RACECARRRRRS!”
It had already been a long, long day- day four of my in-laws’ visit, to be precise. A battle over diapers just wasn’t high on my list of “Fun Ways to Spend a Saturday Night.”
A cup of warm milk finally calmed Bruiser down. An hour later, when I changed his diaper again for bedtime, he was so tired that he didn’t even notice that it didn’t feature his beloved Cars… at least for a little while.
About 15 minutes after we’d put Bruiser in his crib, we began hearing him babble. After a moment, I went in to check on him. There, I found Bruiser naked from the waist down, pointing at a big wet spot in the center of his crib sheet.
“Ahnt! Race Cars!” he said imperiously.
I had had enough.
“You did not just do that,” I said to Bruiser in utter exasperation. I flipped on the light switch and grabbed a Kroger diaper. Bruiser saw it and began screaming with rage.
“What did he do?” Hubs asked, coming into the room.
“He took off his diaper because it didn’t have cars on it, and then he peed in his crib!” I put another diaper on Bruiser as he howled and fought me. Then I put a onesie on him so that he couldn’t pull his diaper off. Then I set him down in Punky’s bed so that I could change his crib sheets. Once I was done, I put him back in the crib. He began trying to pull his diaper off from under his onesie.
“Stop it!” I said. “Stop it right now!”
Bruiser stopped, but he was not pleased about it. He screamed for another couple of minutes before finally passing out from sheer exhaustion.
I feel like such a bad mother sometimes with Bruiser,” I told Hubs tearfully once we’d put both kids to bed. “I don’t even sound like myself. I end up having to say things to him that I never said to Punky, because he refuses to take no for an answer.”
After I had a few minutes to relax, I resolved to focus on the possibility that the next day would be a better one. Because usually, that’s the case.
And so when I woke this morning to the sound of Bruiser’s voice on the baby monitor, I felt hopeful as I put on a robe and went into his room. I smiled to see his little face peering at me through the bars of his crib.
“Good morning, Bruiser!” I said softly. Quickly he stood up and pointed at the diaper bag hanging from the side of his changing cabinet.
“Ahnt! RACE CARS!” he shouted.
Oh hell.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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