Can you change the diaper on a growling, screeching, wiggling, rolling baby tiger?
I can, and I get the pleasure about 3-4 times a day (remember M goes to daycare…they change a lot more than me)
This morning I started our daily diaper battle and it went something like this.
Grab Max and gently lay him down, supply the baby tiger with a toy, he promptly tastes the toy and then chunks it over his head, meanwhile he begins the roll, always to the left, he arches his back, kicks his feet and starts turning his head around as far he can.
“Max! Sit still, no rolling!” I grab the toy, waving it front of his eyes so that he connects with it, flopping back onto his back. I quickly strip off his dino pajama pants, as he quickly starts the roll again, this time successfully landing on his belly and scooting away from me.
“Not so fast buddy” as I grab his chunky baby thighs and pull him back to me. This is where the crying starts, head in carpet, whines begin to escalate as I attempt to get him on his back once again. No such luck, I pull him into my lap and get one arm out of the matching dino shirt before he dives off my lap. I bring him back, more firmly and try to remain sweet, “Mommy needs you to get dressed, arm out please!” I try to pull the other muscular baby arm through the dino shirt and feel his little muscles tighten as he resists. Finally! Both arms out! And then I pull the shirt over his head, his rambunctious movements causing it to get stuck over his eyes and he starts clawing at the shirt and growling at me.
“Slow down Monkey” I say as I rip the shirt off his head. 0.6 seconds later he has crawled 2 feet away from me. Sometimes I give up at this point, taking a momentary break as he crawls away, basking in the freedom of just a diaper and his toys. But not this morning, we are running late. I lean over and grab him again, and now comes the worst part…the actual diaper change. I grab two toys, or my cell phone, or even the Tylenol bottle, praying for 30 seconds of distraction to change him. Not so much. I lay him down and get the diaper halfway off before he does the left head, arched back flip and roll move that he has perfected. I hastily wipe his bottom as it moves away from me. 20 seconds of naked play is not enough for Max, this baby tiger loves to be naked. Not gonna happen, “Max you can’t go to school naked, come on, you need a diaper”
Last try, I grab him, pin him down, using extra arms, my leg, even my foot to keep him in one location for a moment. He starts crying now, red faced infant anger, tears streaming and nose snotty at the injustice of diaper changes. “Maximus Owen Conder, you need a diaper” I say in frustration. He growls back at me but I win, Diaper on! Success! Score! I feel validated by this daily accomplishment, I win!
Ten seconds later he crawls away from me once again and I remember I still have to get clothes back on him. Sigh, good morning Motherhood.