Poor Tiger

There’s a nappy on the Wheelybug’s head.

A year ago if someone had said that sentence to me I would have made my best wtf face at them. These days, it’s the kind of thing that just rolls off my tongue.


Baby R is having something of an awakening.  He has realised that there are parts of himself that get covered up by his nappy.  At the same time, he has realised that he has the ability to make choices, and he is starting to learn how to make his opinion heard.  These two developmental milestones colliding have resulted in a very unwelcome situation.  A nappy wearing revolution.

And so I find myself living in a funny old house, one where it is common to find a nappy stuffed down the back of a sofa or hidden inside a Mega Bloks dumper truck.  Baby R’s protest against nappy wearing is underway, and his determination to defeat his restrictive enemy is unmatched.  No matter how much singing and fun I try to inject during nappy change time, he still responds with screams piercing enough to rouse all cats within a 10 mile radius.  I half expect to see social services pulling up outside my house any day, called in by my horrified neighbours.  “Excuse me madam.  We’ve received an alarming report that you’ve been trying to change your child’s nappy.  Please desist immediately or face severe consequences.”


And so change time comes round again.  It’s a bad one, the kind you can smell from 10 feet, not the kind you can ignore.  We face off.  He knows it’s coming, he tries to run away, he fakes left then crawls past me on the right.  The change mat is our battlefield.  I remove the offending stink bomb, I’m winning, I’m halfway to victory but then – nooooo!  I’m out of ammunition!  There’s no clean nappies on the shelf!  How can this be?  They we’re washed yesterday, we can’t have used them all already.  I panic and lose my grip on him.  He wriggles away from me, starts to make his getaway, he is smiling, heknows that without the nappy, I am powerless.

Baby R celebrates his win by standing up and clapping himself for being so clever and for outwitting me.  His quest to live a nappy-free life has begun.  I see it in his eyes that he is proud of himself for making such a good plan, I can see his commitment to the plan growing, I will hide the nappies, I will hide the nappies! 

I am secretly proud too, proud of my clever and determined baby, but I know I can’t allow this madness to continue for long.  I collect up the nappies and ready myself for the next showdown.  Let’s hope this phase passes quickly, before the cream carpet becomes the first casualty of our mini-war!



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