My Daughter, the Nudist

It started with the innocuous diaper.

She refused to submit to the indignity of lying prone on her back while someone used wet towelettes to wipe parts of her anatomy that were supposed to be private. Ok, I thought, I'd roll with it, chasing her around while she tralalah-ed her way around the bed, the change station all but abandoned (too dangerous to let her monkey self climb all over at such a height). I had read about other parents facing similar problems with their brood too, so I knew what to expect.

Or so I thought. The tralalah-ing butt-naked around the bed had other implications no one warned me about. She could be in the best of moods fresh out of a bath, tolerate the various lotions I slap on, begrudgingly permit me to diaper her - but that's where the goodwill ended. Clothes? You gotta be kidding me, Mummy!

Lately especially, she doth protest much the moment a romper, dress or tee goes over her head. Getting arms through armholes are now a challenge of outstretched arms that refuse to bend, or hands gripped tightly around the collar, trying to pull it over her head. On good days, I manage to distract her long enough to finish dressing her with minimal fuss. Most days, however, she squirms, strains and screams in fervent protest. She would much rather traipse around naked or half-naked, thankyouverymuch. Why do you impose clothes on me, Mummy?!

I would otherwise love to oblige her free-spirited, exhibitionist nature, but the Asian in me is worried that she'll catch a cold. So struggle on we do.

P.S. I first drafted this a couple of weeks ago, maybe longer. Since then, I've managed to negotiate my way to a clothed Baby K, sans much of the previous fuss. Goes to show how quickly kids change! (And how a little practice makes perfect!)