Diaper Change or Wrestling Match?

I've never really liked wrestling.

Back when I was in school, the thought of trying out for the wrestling team didn't even cross my mind. There were two main reasons for this: 1) I would see all the wrestlers walking around starving themselves, spitting constantly, and going to the bathroom frequently in order to get down to their wrestling weight. Me, I've always liked food and have never been very good at spitting, so the wrestling life wasn't tempting. And B) I was skinny, slow, and weak, a combination that would have seen me constantly pinned to the mat.

I didn't care for professional wrestling, either. I was able to discern at an early age that it was fake. (My "fake" radar wasn't always accurate, though. I thought Milli Vanilli were real.)

So, I made it through several decades of life without learning much about the ins and outs of wrestling. And then my fourth child came along. And suddenly I've found myself engaged in full-blown wrestling matches every time I go to change his diaper.

My son and I, wrestling during a diaper change. (I'm the one that's losing.)

I didn't have this problem with my first three children. Oh, there'd be an occasional wiggle to avoid the new diaper, but nothing like what I'm dealing with now. Thing 4 has a wide range of wrestling moves designed to keep me from easily changing his diaper.

He's got the "Knee Clench," which involves clenching his knees together so I can't get to the poop to wipe it off.

There's the "Leg Twist." When I'm holding him up by one leg in order to wipe the poop off, he'll twist his leg in an effort to get me to lose my grip on it so that his poop-covered bum will drop back down to the changing table, spreading the poop everywhere. (I'm not sure why he wants this to happen, but he definitely does.)

The "Leg Wrap" is a move where he wraps both of his legs around my arm and squeezes to immobilize it, much like what a python or an anaconda would do.

There's the "Disappearing Houdini." Just when I get the new diaper in position, he'll suddenly lurch in one direction or another in order to escape the incoming diaper. Sometimes he'll only reposition himself a couple of inches, but those inches can mean the difference between a diaper that covers his bum and a diaper-thong. (And there ain't no one that wants a diaper-thong!)

Those are just a few of the moves he has, and he keeps developing new ones. I look forward to when he's potty trained and I don't have to change his diaper anymore, but since he isn't even two years old yet, that's still just a faraway dream. In the meantime, I'll just have to work on a few takedowns of my own.