Apologies to anyone who finds this photo a little confronting but I figured all the worrying parts were covered and there is as much flesh as you see in an Anne Geddes photo! I just wanted to give you all the mental image of what goes on all day and everyday at our house. I woke up this morning to Miss M running into our room yelling '[miss A] is all nudey!'. Groaning because it was freezing I jumped out of bed knowing that Miss A was obviously still contained in her cot which meant the possibility of piddle on cot sheets which also meant an increase to the already huge washing pile I already had. Arriving in the girls bedroom I found a cheeky face grinning at me as she jumped up and down in her cot. No wet sheets at least, but the temperature this morning was a bit close to zero to be running round in the clothes that God gave you!!! I put a dressing gown on her to avoid the getting dressed fight until at least after breakfast, and got her out of bed. Sure enough after breakfast there was the usual fight. It usually goes in three stages.
Stage one- Initiation. This is where mum initiates the getting dressed momentum by gathering Miss A's clothes and taking them to her. It is at this point she either runs away laughing making me feel like I want to crawl back in bed with the anticipation of exhaustion OR this is when she yells 'HELP' and tries to tear the clothes from my hands so that she can attempt to dress herself.
Stage two- independence
This stage is when you have to sit and watch Miss A put her pants on her head and then help herself to the washing pile and put your underwear on as a t-shirt and you can do NOTHING to help. She will sit there trying to push her chubby little arms through the neck hole of her clothes so that her top resembles something from the Flinstones but you CAN NOT help!! No matter how frustrating it looks. If you even look like moving the tag to the back, or adjusting the sleeve so her arm can slip in more easily, Miss A will scream like a child possessed and then once released from your grasp will look you dead in the eye and quite matter-of-factly say 'help' which interpreted means 'I will do it, now back off!'. This goes on until Miss A has got herself into a straight jacket type scenario and then she is screaming 'HELP!' again, but in a more literal sense of the word.
Stage three- surrender
The term 'surrender' may have the reader tricked into believing that by this stage Miss A is dressed by her mother. This is incorrect. There are two versions of stage three. Version one is where Miss A will happily let you fix the straight jacket type item to a more comfortable position and then move back at stage one for the second item of clothing. Version two is where Miss A gives up, throws the clothing item into the wind and runs off bringing us again, back to stage one. So really by surrender, this implies that Mum is infact the one surrendering. Giving up to avoid the fight. If after a long time of persisting, Miss A is finally dressed, and you let her out of your sight, she will be undressed in less than a second leaving you whimpering in the corner.
So that's my daily battle to get the child dressed. I joked to someone the other day that I was considering buying her a onesie to out in her in bed backwards so she can't get it off....I'm thinking more seriously about that at this point as I reach desperation. The postman, I think, has now become accustomed to a nude child or two at the door when a parcel is delivered. I think also the people over the road would be used to seeing a nude child perched int he front window of the house. I wonder at times, if i were to do the same, whether they would be scared into realising that clothes perhaps are a better option. Here's to hoping that she grows out of it before she is school age when it becomes just plain weird!
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