High-speed chases never end well

Just to refresh your memories, I have two boys (Camden 3, and Cavan 17 months). Right now we are in the stage where every routine involving diapering, dressing, brushing teeth, or washing hands is an epic battle. I have tried everything, from singing songs to dangling shiny toys in front of their eyes, to try and slow them down long enough to change a diaper or wipe a nose. Hygiene is the biggest challenge we are facing now as far as I'm concerned. I can handle it if they can't yet grasp the concept of sharing, but nothing stresses me out more than trying to hold down a flailing toddler while attempting to remove a toxic diaper. This morning's attempt to wipe the oatmeal from Cavan's face almost resulted in another ER visit.

We enjoyed cinnamon oatmeal this morning for breakfast (Camden's favorite). At 17 months old, Cavan has almost mastered the spoon. Well, since I am not Betty Crocker, my oatmeal this morning was a little sticky and lumpy (hey, it wasn't instant). Cavan thought it would be more efficient to grab handfuls of the mush and shovel it in his mouth. He also delighted in in smearing the leftovers all around the highchair chair, as if he were working on his next finger-painting masterpiece. He signaled the end of breakfast by standing straight up in his highchair (he can unbuckle himself now, so there is no point). When he stood I grabbed him so he wouldn't fall. He clung to me with his gooey hands, and I hauled him to the sink. He performed his signature "Houdini" where he becomes limp and straight at the same time and slides straight to the floor, thus freeing himself from the chains of his parent's arms. He hit the floor running, and I followed with a towel thinking I could at least wipe his hands clean. He rounded the corner of the kitchen peninsula, and his little feet slid across the hardwood floor and out from underneath him. He tumbled backwards and fell head first. Poor Cavan, I can't even tell you how many times now that child has injured his little noggin! It turns out that he is fine, and we don't need to visit the ER. He didn't want my comfort, though. He went straight to his older brother who gave him a hug and kiss on the head. I give up. High-speed chases never end well!