Barf rags. Especially in the beginning, babies are small barf
machines. The gentler phrase, “spit-up,” doesn’t quite capture the volumes that
can be produced. Indeed barf cloths are very useful for wiping these patches
off of your clothing or the babe’s (or, apparently, for protecting said
clothing in the first place), but other things that work in a pinch include:
discarded outer layers, extra outfits you may have remembered to pack, or your
socks.
Bibs. My child
mostly gets food everywhere except in the bib-covering-region, so I rarely
remember to bring one around. Since I also don’t have a barf rag or anything
useful to clean his face, I often resort to the old wipe it on my hand and then
on my pants method, but sometimes even that is too much. So I have been known
to, like a cat, lick my kid’s cheeks clean. I know…shocking.
He's got to get clean somehow, even if extremely temporarily |
Wipes. When you run
out of butt-wipes mid-poo cleanup, life can seem rather bleak. Especially when
you are crouched on a grass median at a campground. First, try using wet paper
towels your partner brings you from the nearby toilet block. When that fails,
chuck the baby in the closest sink or the ocean (hopefully you’ve decided to
change the child in running distance of one of these).
Diapers. This one is
particularly awkward. When the babe decides to poo in the last clean diaper you
have on hand, hopefully you have a not-too-wet one lying about from an earlier
change to place him back into for the time being (here’s an upside of cloth
diapers-you don’t throw them away!). Or you might use the extra onesie you used
earlier to clean up his barf, your socks, or any other absorbent item lying
about that you don’t mind getting dirty as a diaper.
Clothing. It seems
inevitable that whatever backup item I forget will become soaked in some
disgusting bodily fluid, muddy puddle water, or otherwise need to be changed.
For some reason I find that people seem quite offended when you haven’t
properly dressed your child in pants, shirt, waistcoat, socks, loafers, and a
fedora. A barefoot child running around in diapers seems to dredge up fears of
neglect; though I don’t personally define a poorly packed diaper bag as
malevolent.
Way easier than sunscreen |
Of course, when the weather isn’t cooperating, you must
think of ways to shield your child from the elements when proper clothing isn’t
an option. I have spent an afternoon shivering in the cold wind in my t-shirt
while my babe wore my sweater with the sleeves rolled a million times. He has
also spent more than one walk in the stroller wrapped in the wind-proof mat I
use for changing him on the go, due to a lack of warm clothing.
Snacks.
Breastfeeding is easy, because you don’t really have to think about packing
snacks. Now that the babe sometimes prefers to eat solid food, I often resort
to popping into the nearest place to buy a croissant or a piece of fruit.
Usually this turns out to be more fun, unless the babe is also in a pre-sleep
rampage mood and insists on ripping anything he can reach off of the shelves
and bowling them down the aisles.
Baby carriers.
Babies get heavy. Clever friends have had luck with backpacks, and I’ve made
(not very good, but helpful) baby carriers out of a beach towel and a sarong.
I’ve also had some luck doing a piggy-back with the baby stuck up inside of my
sweater, with his head out the top. This doubles as additional warmth, if
you’ve underdressed your child (see above).
Entertainment. Never
underestimate the attraction of an interesting piece of rubbish.