Feeding them both together is easy. They both want to do it. They both enjoy it. It's quiet and peaceful and, ok, makes me really, really hungry... but it's not difficult.
Simultaneous nappy changes are another thing altogether. I have never in 28 months come as close to hitting Toddler as I did this morning.
I changed Baby's nappy. Fine; she squalled a bit but the change went ok, I put the pooey one aside and persuaded Toddler to lie down on the mat. With her book.
Ugh. I had become resigned to toddler-nappies, but compared to an exclusively breastfed nappy they are truly revolting. And the fabric wipes weren't absorbing the water; I think they had accidentally been laundered with fabric conditioner.
But I managed to get her mostly clean, and then she stopped cooperating. As soon as she was comfortable again, she wriggled. And held her legs rigid. And tried to put her hands into the remaining ick. And rolled over.
I got her clean. I found the clean nappy.
She rolled. She stood up and went and poked at Baby. She lay down again (ok, I sort of tripped her gently) and held onto the side-table with the laptop on it. She pulled it over. She turned on her side so I couldn't fasten the nappy. I tried pinning her down, but with my c-section incisions (the internal ones hurt most) she's stronger than I am. I shouted at her. Then I set my teeth and listened to the little voice in my head telling me "It would work, you know. She'd know you were serious. It wouldn't hurt. Once wouldn't do her any harm. It's a tool like any other."
I got a wrap loosely assembled around the nappy and brought her to her room so that we could both calm down. Yikes. That was nasty.
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