The pre-nap diaper change in our house just turned into an episode of National Geographic. One of those scenes where the Lion (erm, I guess that would be me) was fighting valiantly to subdue the fleeing gazelle (this ends up being Elliot in this scenario) and they both barely make it out alive.
Literally there was teeth gnashing, limbs flying, howls and squeals. He has NEVER treated a diaper change this way. I mean, it's not his favorite activity in the world. He's a toddler, he would much rather "go, go, go!" Or, in this case, "go ni-night." Part of me feels I should be pleased that he was so excited about his nap that he flew into a rage when I DARED to postpone it with a diaper change (standard routine, by the way.) But mostly I just felt like a mean, mean mama when I used all of my current hundred and... ahem.. *mumble mumble* pounds to subdue my 27 pound son. I wish I could explain to him that were he to take the diaper change like a little man, it would be over SO much faster than the fight that just ensued. However, he's 18 months old, so rationalizing isn't his forte just yet.
So instead I just had to keep remembering what my bestie said: "These are fights you MUST win." And it's true. It sucked, but no one was harmed in the changing of that diaper, and HOPEFULLY Elliot learned that throwing a fit will not persuade mama to put you down in a wet diaper. (PS: Ew!)
Now, I'm rewarding myself with a post-lunch cupcake. Mmmmmmm. This Lioness can retire to her chocolate goodies... until the next jungle battle. Elliot's 18 months old, so I'm sure there are more to come.
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