I took a semester of Judo in college back in ’94, and I never expected to use it again in my life. Turns out it’s the perfect martial art for dealing with an 8-month-old with a mind of his own and the strength of a Shetland pony.
When I learned this hold they told me its name is Kagato Jime, but these days I like to call it “I’ll get that diaper on you if it’s the last thing I do.”
If trying to be nice while I dress him doesn’t work, I usually resort to the good old Waki Gatame, or “Do you really prefer a twisted arm than wearing this t-shirt?”
C has really shown a knack for Judo, and since he enjoys it so much (ahem) we indulge in a wrestling match nearly every night. Normally he crawls, shakes, shimmies and rolls to stay awake for as long as possible, so I have to immobilize him long enough for him to fall asleep and stay asleep. I’ve heard other mothers resort to lullabies or rocking chairs to make their babies drowsy, but I much prefer to use Yoko Shiho Gatame, which in this house goes by “Sleep tight, little boy.”
(If my mother ever catches me doing any of these to the boy she’ll call the cops. Please don’t tell her.)