Charles here
Charles here.
So sure, some of our experience is unique. The part about trying to get her physical therapy, occupational therapy, and orthopedic help as soon as possible, and worrying that every day that goes by means she will have a little less mobility at 17, and feeling like the medical bureaucracy is slowly crushing the life out of my daughter? That’s unique. (And you can pray about that, by the way. We need these appointments faster. And they’re not coming faster.)
But a lot of what we’re going through is just the standard world-upending experience common to all new parents. Case in point: diapers. Like many young families, we are producing used disposable diapers much faster than we can fashion them into decorative arts and crafts projects.
So we got a Diaper Genie II, which is like the Diaper Genie, only it was made for twice as much money and didn’t do as well at the box office. You flip up the lid and squeeze your previously-worn diaper through some spring-loaded teeth, after which it just…disappears. Perfect! Problem solved!
Only not. When I saw the words “Diaper Genie” the connection I made was with the ability to fit large items into small places, like a genie into a lamp, or a lifetime supply of diapers into a canister the size of R2-D2. On the contrary: every couple days the spring-loaded teeth start backing up, at which point I open the Diaper Genie II, tie some knots, cut some plastic, and wind up with a diaper sausage the size of Barry Bonds’s arm.
I’m stockpiling them in the closet. When Mardi Gras comes around, we can just hang them from the ceiling.
