I actually enjoyed changing diapers and I enjoyed swaddling. I don't mind being swaddled either, on occasion.
I've dug so deep into his background, I can practically tell you when he stopped waring diapers.
A diaper is as inspiring as a drink.
When I start getting old, I'm going to start ending my prayers like, "Lord, it'd be a good day to die." I don't wanna be 130 years old with a diaper on, all my friends dead and gone. I wanna get to heaven, come get me!
Suddenly we have a baby who poops and cries, and we are trying to calm, clean up, and pin things together all at once. Then as fast as we learn to cope--so soon--it is hard to recall why diapers ever seemed so important. The frontiers change, and now perhaps we have a teenager we can't reach.
I love the smell of diapers; I even like when they're wet and you smell them all warm like a baked good. I love the smell of Balmex. Love it.
I guess in all of the obvious ways. I can afford more diapers for my children. If I want to buy a complete set of Garbage Pail Kids on Ebay I don't have to ask my wife so hard. For the most part, it's mostly the same. I keep my head down and I just work on comics for most of the time.
A story: A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterward he turns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he’s finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son’s diaper; his hands remember the rifle.
I have two kids in diapers and a cat whose litter box I clean out. I deal with an awful lot of crap.
I'm not saying looting is good, ... But I'm saying surely at a time when your child needs diapers and you need food, when does looting stop.
When I knew I was going to be able to write full time, I wondered, "What's going to happen to the relationships within my family?" Are they going to change? Is it going to be the kind of deal where you say, "I can't take this! Get me out of here! I can't stand these screaming kids!" The way it turned out was, I was able to change the diapers okay, after I stuck the pin through my fingers a few times. I had a dawning realization that children are not particularly hard to deal with.
I was raised as a red diaper baby.
In less than a year, the Bush administration will strut out of office, leaving the country in roughly the same condition a toddler leaves a diaper.
Well, Rush, look what happened? 9/11 happened, and we didn't know it in advance. That's right, we got hit, we got hit big time. We need a new agency to make sure it doesn't happen again, Rush." And that was the excuse for starting Department of Homeland Security. The government grows and grows and grows and grows, and what do we get? Little old ladies wanded, scanned for bombs and weapons under their skirts next to the incontinence diapers. A bunch safer.
I autograph a lot of body parts of intoxicated people. And lots of shoes. And I signed a diaper once!
Being a mother is the perfect experience for any writer. You learn how to not waste time. The writing hours become incredibly precious and concentrated because the rest of your day is completely packed with diapers, edible liquid foods that look like pooh, tiny bathtubs, and unconditional love.
There are many people writing songs. That is absolutely wonderful. Who knows, there may be some kid in diapers and he or she might succeed in capturing in a few dozen words what great writers have spent years trying to say. Just the right word in the right place with the right melody behind it and the right rhythm. It might get around the world inch by inch, and people realize that this world is in danger, that we're in danger. That's the way "This Land Is Your Land" got to be so well known.
I suffered from a mild case of postpartum depression after my second child and the physical challenge of maintaining an overnight shift at CBS, a marriage, and two in diapers made the symptoms worse and everyone in the house paid the price.
As an older dad who grew up in a rural culture in the South, certain things were expected of women, and that included raising the children. But I think its just as important for the father to give the baths, to hug, to change the diapers, to tell the stories.
Winning the green jacket is great - I can pay for all the diapers I'm going to have to get.
A word to the wise to all the children of the twentieth century, whether their concern be pediatrics or geriatrics, whether they crawl on hands and knees and wear diapers or walk with a cane and comb their beards. There's a wondrous magic to Christmas, and there's a special power reserved for little people. In short, there's nothing mightier than the meek, and a merry Christmas to each and all.
it was my first doll that water went into and water came out of much earlier it was the diaper I wore and the dirt thereof and my mother hating me for it
The best thing about Sassy Seats is that grandmothers cannot figure out how they work and are in constant fear of the child's falling. This often makes them forget to comment on other aspects of the child's development, like why he is not yet talking or is still wearing diapers. Some grandmothers will spend an entire meal peering beneath the table and saying, "Is that thing steady?" rather than, "Have you had a doctor look at that left hand?
The problem is simply this: no one can feel like CEO of his or her life in the presence of the people who toilet trained her and spanked him when he was naughty. We may have become Masters of the Universe, accustomed to giving life and taking it away, casually ordering people into battle or out of their jobs . . . and yet we may still dirty our diapers at the sound of our mommy's whimper or our daddy's growl.
Is it possible that my sons-in-law will do toilets? If we raise boys to know that diapers need to be changed and refrigerators need to be cleaned, there's hope for the next generation.
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