Julia has learned how to remove her diaper.
Last night I had changed her diaper and hadn’t put her pajamas on yet because at that moment the dryer stopped running so I went over to that part of the basement (on the other side of the child safety gate) to fold the laundry.
While I was over there, Julia, after playing with the little tabs for a few minutes, ripped off her diaper and proceeded to race around the room, grinning triumphantly.
Bill caught her (no daughter of mine is going to run around shamelessly like that!) and re-diapered her and headed back to the TV part of the basement. I was watching in between folding the shirts and pants and matching the socks. And I saw Julia, after Bill dusted off his hands in triumph and left her standing there, modestly covered up again. And she had a look in her eye as she sauntered off to where the toys are. A look, I tell you. One that does not bode well for us when she hits her teens. Or before that, at this rate.
And the next second – there she was – racing out of her hiding spot near the Home Depot Work Bench – diaper in hand.
And I confess: I turned away, laughing to myself, to wait for Bill to see her.
"Oh Julia!!" He corralled her and got the diaper away from her – at this point she was having a grand old time – what a fun game! He told her to come over and get her diaper back on, but instead she sat down, a little out of his reach, legs TOO WIDE APART, and she just grinned. Proudly.
But he won that round. Got her in her diaper AND into her one-piece blanket sleeper. But this will be a short-lived victory for him…she already unzips her own coat…this new zipper won’t take long to conquer at all.