Between attempting to persuade Mr V to remember to use washable wipes for nappy changes (eco warrior me), encouraging (read nagging) him to at least give the washable nappies a try once or twice a week, and then negotiating the enormous mountain of boxes currently stacked in our hallway containing the next 3 months’ worth of continence products, I fear I may go loopy.
As a parent you expect the nappy-wearing, charming part of babyhood to be relatively short.
Even when as a toddler bladder/bowel control is a thing of myth and mystery, you still believe that one day your child will learn to use a toilet.
The Dude is now 8 years old and has the same level of continence as a baby.
He can let us know (usually with a gleeful grin and a darn good wiggle) that he has done something unspeakable, but he has no control over his body functions what so ever.
Changing an 8 month old baby is one thing; changing an 8 year old child who cannot sit/stand/ walk is quite another.
Like everything else this life has introduced us to, we have adapted.
We can’t just pop to the shops to get him a new pack if we run low; its expensive too – we receive a very welcome contribution from the NHS towards his nappies, however this doesn’t cover his needs fully.
We’re also trying to be more eco-friendly, see above re: washable wipes (best things ever) and washable nappies (currently, a bit of an issue).
15 nappies for my boy costs £15, compared to £1.99 for 20 nappies in Aldi. The new Junior nappies from Tesco go some way to addressing the cost and availability issues, but at 8 years old he has already grown out of these.
Then there is choosing which room to lose for the next few weeks as the boxes need to be stored *somewhere*.
We never expected that we would still have to change our son at this age; or how militant I would become about toilet accessibility!
Until he has grown to a size where I can easily find washable nappies to fit him, we’re stuck with disposable ones; boxes of which currently form the Nappy Mountain of Staffordshire in our hallway.
All I now need to do is find a home for this little lot, and pray that Abbotts don’t deliver his feeding supplies before I do…