One day last week, Danny commences SCREAMING and grabbing his diaper, indicating that a diaper change is immediately necessary. As I'm scooping up the supplies and assuring Danny things will be okay, Oscar beings demanding that I hold him.
Obviously I can't hold him as Danny is very clearly in dire need of a diaper change, so I tell Oscar, "Momma will hold you later. I have to change Danny. Danny's sad."
"Danny sad? Danny sad? Momma hold you! Momma hold you!" And Oscar starts freaking out.
I make the decision to just ignore Oscar because his behavior is escalating to a tantrum and there is really nothing I can do. Danny is totally freaking out at this point, and it's only been like 30 seconds, so he clearly needs to be dealt with first.
I lay Danny down and open his diaper to find awful, nasty, messy diarrhea that is irritating what already was an inflamed diaper rash. The poor guy is in quite a bit of pain, hence the freaking out and Extreme Screaming.
At just this moment of diarrhea discovery, I hear Oscar shriek with glee as he lands on my back. He will not be ignored! So there I am, with a very poopy diaper and toddler beneath me and a 30 pound monkey hanging off my neck and kicking me in the kidneys.
I sort of lean to the side and manage to shake him off, but he's back on me in a flash! So, I try to clean Danny's bottom with Oscar on my back, but it's just not working. Danny is really screaming because the cleaning is painful and he's kicking his legs and writhing and threatening to get diarrhea all over me and my couch. And Oscar is on my back, pulling at my hair, trying to reach around and grab my glasses, and laughing like a maniac.
I tried to shake him off again, but it only worked the first time because I caught him unawares. He was ready this time and just clung tighter. I had to literally pry him off of me, with one hand, and he landed on the floor with a bit of a THUNK but was fine.
At this point, I noticed that he was getting onto my back by climbing onto the ottoman and launching himself off of my laptop. And in a second he's on me again, laughing and kicking and crushing my larynx in an attempt to get me to wrestle.
I pry him off me again and he's immediately trying to climb back up the ottoman, "I CLIMB! I CLIMB!" Now, I only have one arm, because the other is trying to clean the crap off a screaming toddler who's in pain. I take my free arm, block the climb, and scoop up the laptop, stowing it safely under the couch.
Then, Oscar is on my back again, laughing and just generally having a great time. I tuck my chin to protect my neck and just let him stay there, so I can get poor Danny's diaper changed. His bottom was clean and covered with cream by this point, but he was still awfully upset.
I get the clean diaper on Danny and he's all suited up, but still crying pretty significantly. As I begin to comfort him, Oscar makes a lunge, "DIAPER! Danny poop? Poo-poo diaper? HAHAHAHAH!" I snatch up the dirty diaper before Oscar can get a hold of it and hustle it to the trash with Oscar hot on my heels the whole way.
By the time I'd washed my hands and made it back into the living room, Danny found his way to the toddler chair and had calmed down. Oscar no longer wanted to be held. And I was in desperate need of martini. Extra dirty and extra dry. Which is kind of fitting when you think about it.