The other day, I found myself astonished as my bubbly, handsome 1-year old giggled uncontrollably at the silliness of my erratic mood switch, completely oblivious to the passage of time and how mummy was flipping over because he wouldn’t stay still long enough to change his diaper.
He wanted to keep playing. I wanted to stop.
He wanted to keep giggling and kicking. I wanted a smooth sail — to be efficient and done quickly.
It should only take a few minutes to change him, right? Surely, this was no David and Goliath war. There were no weapons of warfare. No stones to throw. No armor. No shield.
Just I and my little baby boy alone in that room.
Come on, this can’t be hard, I thought. Sing his favorite song, wipe quickly, and finish up nicely.
Apparently, someone else had different plans. Baby boy was having none of that.
