So there I am: 3:15am, laying in bed, just about to drift asleep after hours of obsessive online research of something or other, when Jen says, “can you change him?” Shake myself awake. Yes, I am a Dad, and I change diapers! To the fray! So I change the little bugger. I take him back to Mom. En route: _bwaaaa_[gross bubbly noise]! Explosive poop. Fine. We’ll let him eat and then change him again. Half hour later: shake myself awake again; off to change him again.
Everything’s going well, despite the two-diaper-wipe-worthy mess. Keeping him covered, keeping an eye on him, keeping his socks out of the poop, keeping the sleep sack clean. Getting good at this, yeah? Cool. Bend over to grab a new diaper, straighten up, notice an arc of pee streaming, in just such an angle as to bypass the cloth diaper draping his midriff, onto the wall. Not good. Frantically toss the new diaper over the pee stream. OK. Peeing done. Toss new diaper in trash, wipe his butt off again with diaper wipe, grab yet new diaper. Put diaper on.
So I reach to pick him up, and I swear he’s smiling. Does he think this is a game? Pee on the wall when Dad’s not looking? Fun game, kid! You’re grounded! I pick him up, still groggy despite all the action, and get halfway into the bedroom when I discover the reason he’s smiling: his sleep sack and the back of his head are covered in warm liquid. Consult with Mom: nope, that ain’t milk. He’s got pee on him.
Here, then, we have one of those moments. A moment of truth for a new parent. Do you fight off your exhaustion? Forge on? Make any sacrifice? All that stuff? Of course!
Or… perhaps… instead… you could just use a spare cloth diaper to wipe his head off… and his neck… like that… extra wipe there behind the ear… and dab the sleep sack… there we go. Good as new! They say infant pee is sterile, no? He looks so happy. Let’s bathe him tomorrow morning.
So, to summarize: our child slept last night with a pee-soaked head. He seems fine though.