Sometimes I still can’t quite believe that my life involves the things it does. Mommyhood is not the cuddles and the playing nicely with toys that I was expecting. Not yet anyway. There's less sunshine and roses and more tears and blowouts. Sometimes it’s just plain farcical. One unexpected result is that our lives have now become a Disney movie. My husband and I regularly burst out into song, which somehow we both instinctively know the lyrics to, imploring Noah to see sense through the magic of song. There’s a song for everything; eating, nail clipping, teeth cleaning, going for a walk, changing, bath time, etc. One of my frequent ones is, ‘Mess-maker, mess-maker, make me a mess,’ to the tune of Fiddler on the Roof’s ‘Matchmaker’.
This morning the struggle of getting Noah dressed for the day inspired a new song. When we’re at home I tend to leave him in his pajamas because …. well I’d rather climb Kilimanjaro than change him more times per day than I absolutely have to. As soon as I get one leg in his pants he somehow manages to use the other to whip it back off. This happens three, maybe four times. He’s somehow flailing his limbs perfectly to cause the most pain, destruction and inconvenience. I’ve given birth to a ninja. Often I just sit there and let him buck and kick until he gets tired. Except he never gets tired. He just slows down, eyeing me as if to say, “You wanna dance, lady? ’Cuz I can do this allllll day.”
This is after the fight to get the diaper on. I’ve already won a medal for that. Whenever he does a gigantic poop and I’m changing him, he now reaches down into his diaper and, voila, poop hands. Another thing to clean. When I finally have got him cleaned up, I manage to pin him down long enough to get the new diaper under him and, yup, I’ve put it on backwards. Face palm. Rookie move. And now he’s seized his opportunity and is making a break for it, but I somehow manage to put his diaper on WHILE he crawls away. Mom 1—Noah 0.
The stress of all this culminates in a new song (because that’s the mommy/Disney thing to do), Frozen style, ‘Do you want to be a nudist?’ And it makes me realize, that’s probably why these Disney characters are forever singing — it’s their coping mechanism. It might seem like a jolly whistle while they work and a high-ho, but inside they’re freaking over their massive to-do list or are terrified about the prospect of a giant diamond crushing them. I totally understand now.
So I continue singing. ’Do you wanna be a nudiiiist? And never put on any clooooothes?’ Sigh. It really is all about sitting back and giggling with him, because if I don’t I’ll turn into Crazy-Mom, or Mean-Mom, or clench my jaw at night and have to take fourteen million trips to the dentist. (True story.)
Oh well. Semi-naked babies are cute anyway, right?
