Drama at the changing table

Every diaper change is an adventure. Kathleen does not want to keep still. Now that she can crawl, she wants to at every possible opportunity. The moment she senses that she might be laid down, she stiffens. When her suspicions are confirmed, she cries and tries to get back up. I can’t change her diaper while she’s sitting up, so I lay her back down, thus prompting a mini tantrum. She screams, she rolls, she kicks, she flails . . . she does everything in her power to get away. It takes about four times longer to change her diaper than need be. If I can distract her before she melts down, all is good; otherwise, as is usually the case, she’ll do her banshee imitation until I let her back up and all is right with the world once more. Armageddon is put on hold, time starts ticking again, the Earth resumes spinning on its axis, and the Universe continues expanding.

You’d think her histrionics would make diaper changes a chore. Well, I’ll grant they’re not the most interesting part of childhood, but the added drama makes me laugh. I am more in awe than ever at how she’s becoming her own person. She’s developing preferences and taking steps to achieve her goals, even if her goal is getting to that book across the room to finish gnawing off the corner. The dramatics will not be encouraged once she’s old enough to be able to control herself and understand that the world does not revolve around her. For now, however, I take them as a sign that she’s developing into a proper little person.