Demon Baby Is a Trendsetter

This appeared in the NY Times and also on MSNBC.com today:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31939730/ns/health-the_new_york_times/

And here are my thoughts.

Demon Baby, from the moment he turned two, definitely preferred not wearing clothes. In fact, I began to assume he had a sensitivity disorder because even before he could fully articulate his feelings, he would shriek when I dressed him and pull at the elastic and buttons as if they were hot coals burning his flesh. Once he was old enough to talk, he expressed a preference--no elastic (hence he NEVER wears underwear even if he has sweatpants of some sort on), no buttons, all cotton, all fleece.

I always assumed one day he would outgrow this. And then . . . I stopped caring. He is who he is, free spirit and all.

Now that he is four, he understands that outside the house, there are some social parameters. He will not wear shoes in public most of the time--he goes to church barefoot for example. He will not wear underwear. But he will put on a pair of fleece sweats and a T-shirt (no buttons and very loose).

When we have company, if it's someone he knows very well, he will be naked around them. If it's a newer friend . . . he will wear clothes. He understands that the world has some rules about clothing, even if he thinks we should ALL be naked.

When I read the article, I felt sorry for some of these kids. I really did. I understand that the adults are just being honest--they feel girls need more decorum. Whatever. But in actuality, as a mom of four kids, I realize you spend so much of their lives poignantly realizing EVERYTHING about them is fleeting.

My oldest kids can't have their heartbreaks cured by cookies and a Band-aid (or even a box of Band-aids).

You realize your child will only be utterly AMAZED by fireflies for a short time (though I confess I still feel my heart beat faster with joy when summer comes and I see them).

You realize the world has a lot of ugliness. That the people in it are sometimes very good, but oftentimes . . . cruel.

And so my feeling about my Naked Demon Baby is the world and its wolves are right there waiting. They are waiting to tell him to sit in his seat, and to stop singing, and to put on shoes and to walk a certain way and use an inside voice. They are waiting to tell him to stop giggling in class, and that he "can't" do this or that because it's really not realistic to think you can have a career as a dragon-slayer. They just don't HAVE that category on job applications.

It all comes to an end. The innocence and joy. The world is waiting to steal it from him. To crush it out of him.

And so for me . . . this mom . . . my house . . . he can stay this way for as long as he wants.

There's time for all the rest of it.

A Sunny Day in My Office

I'm writing, and a naked Demon Baby is singing the Clash ("Should I stay or should I go now?") while sunning himself.

In my office.

This is my very real life with Demon Baby.

Somedays, it's pretty awesomely hilarious.

Actual Comment from Demon Baby's Older Sister

His older sister (age 11) and I were in the kitchen when Demon Baby rode through on his bicycle. She cocked her head and looked at me:

"Now THERE'S something you just don't see every day. A naked Demon Baby riding a bicycle in the kitchen. NAKED."

And in fact, I presume that we were indeed the only household in America where that was occurring.

Secret Naked Strike

I now know that Demon Baby is actually the reincarnation of Hugh Hefner. Yes, I realize Hef isn't dead yet, but he's PRACTICALLY dead, at like, what? Eighty-something?

You see, Demon Baby got a new bathrobe. He's never had one before . . . but I dug his brother's old one out of a box of clothes I saved. It's brown and fleece and very warm. After Demon Baby's last ritualistic Ninja bath, I held out the bathrobe.

"What's that?"

"A bathrobe."

"What for?"

"Your lips are blue from being in the tub so long. This will warm you up."

[Note: He takes FREEZING cold baths . . . his choice.]

He shrugged and put it on.

"You look handsome in in it," I offered.

Demon Baby snuggled in, then went off to play. About an hour later he returned--still (!!) in his bathrobe. This was like a new record of non-nakedness.

"I like my bathrobe."

"Great!"

"Wanna know why?"

"Sure . . . " I said. But deep down, I thought, do I really want to know why?

"Because, when you wear a bathrobe, you can be totally NAKED underneath, but no one has to KNOW you're naked. So it's like you're SECRETLY naked. Even in front of company."

"Good to know, Demon Baby."

As he walked off, I suddenly glimpsed him, head of an empire of near-naked Demons. And I thought . . . my God . . . my kid is a junior Hefner.

Naked Strike Returns

Management thought it had successfully negotiated a union agreement with the Demons for the end of Naked Strike 2008-2009.

As such, Management conceded to ONLY purchase tag-free all-black fleece sweatpants and black turtlenecks (also tagless) from Old Navy. In return Demon Baby would dress as a Ninja and wear clothes 75% of the time, in return for bathing less because really, if you saw my last post, what's the point of a bath with this kid.

However, settlement talks have failed. Naked Strike has returned. This picture was taken five minutes ago. My family room? That was what greeted me upong my return from getting a haircut when Demon Baby's father was "watching" him. To be fair, it often looks like that when I am in charge too.

Yeah.

Whatever you are thinking about how much of a disaster that room is, the reality is worse.

Note strategically placed couch cushions. That is his Fortress of Naked Solitude.

Naked Strike Update

Many people have asked me, "So how goes the Naked Strike?"

Well . . . it took me a while (six months to be precise), but we now have Semi-Naked Strike punctuated by moments of full dress. My solution (finally came to me about two weeks ago) was to get VERY creative.

Turns out Demon Baby has aspirations to be a Ninja.

So I bought him black fleece sweatpants with no tags (tags are a big no-no).

And black turtlenecks of all cotton (again, no tags).

And those are his Ninja outfits.

He will wear his Ninja clothes, commando (no underwear ever), punctuated by long stretches where he will wear his Ninja pants only, with no shirt, no matter how cold it is (as in picture in post below when my house's temperature was 62 and it was freezing outside). Socks are a no-go, so he's barefoot 24/7, even when I take him to church or the store.

At night, he still prefers to be naked, but I have convinced him that this ONE shirt he has (that is a hand-me-down from his brother) is protective Ninja nighttime armor. So he will wear THAT, with no underwear. It falls to his knees, so that's OK.

So it's now mostly a Semi-Naked Strike.

And my son is a Ninja.

It's a good thing I am a writer and creative.

Naked Strike, The Winter Months

For anyone keeping count, Demon Baby hasn't worn clothes indoors since sometime in July. Not a stitch. Not at bedtime. Not at breakfast. Not when company comes. Leaving the house involves setting at least a half hour for wrestling him into clothes, and he doesn't leave them on when he gets home.

As the Demon Madonna, I tried to take a laissez-faire approach to his nakedness. After all, I reasoned, soon enough it would be winter. It would be cold . . . and clothes would win out as the rational approach. He would see "the light."

As weeks turned to months, as the leaves turned colors, he has shown no sign of relenting in his quest for 24/7 nakedness. I have tried lowering the A/C to 65 to "freeze him out." I have tried opening the windows when it is 32 degrees out.

None of these approaches have worked. His reaction to Operation Freeze is to go find something to wrap himself in, and to walk around naked, but bundled up. One might think he would choose baby blankets or quilts to wrap himself in. But that is the choice for ordinary mortals. This morning, I found him wearing my sweatpants as a cape.

I find myself, often, puzzling what will this little Demon become. His worldview is so unusual. As my mother puts it, based on the movie and book of the same name, he is my "Martian Child." His new favorite activity is to climb in the bathtub. naked, with no water in it, and play with shaving cream. He likes to "wear" a layer of shaving cream, which maybe to him feels like clothes. I don't know.

I do know this . . . Freeze-Out methods have failed. Talks with Management have completely broken down. I am trying to break the Naked Union, but . . . to no avail.

I need to get more creative.

In the meantime, here it is close to Thanksgiving, and my house is colder than an icebox. He's naked. I'M suffering. My lips are blue.

Naked Strike, The Winter Months.

If I was a playwright, instead of a novelist, I would call it The Naked Monologues.

Naked Demon Tattoos

Yes. He is flexing his muscles.

Temporary tattoo of barbed wire courtesy of 10-year-old sister.

He wanted his penis tattooed. This was the compromise.

Naked Strike's New Twist

Managements talks with Demon Baby have deteriorated further.

Went to my pastor-friend's house last night for dinner. Demon Baby stripped out of his shirt, complaining about a "tag"--which did not exist.

"But it's itchy."

"It can't be. This shirt has no tag."

Multiple times I had to stop him from stripping out of the rest of his clothes, but he did remain shirtless.

But the new twist?

He now is giving up bathing.

"I want to see how stinky I can get."

Day 1. Not bad.

Day 2. Still not bad.

Day 3. A little ripe.

Day 4. Noxious. So I get to wrestle Demon Baby into the bathtub today. I just can't stand the stench. AND, I am equally confident that he wouldn't care HOW long he went without a bath.

I may have to bring in labor scabs. Some fake kid to take his place just so I can have a moment's peace.

All Things Are Better Naked

The impasse between Management and Demon Baby continues.

As I write, he is, of course, stark naked. When I ask him if he is EVER going to put on clothes, he tells me no. Not maybe. Not someday. NO.

"Life is better naked."

For the record, these are the things he appears to think are better naked:

eating macaroni
playing with the dogs
going out to the mailbox to check for mail
sleeping
talking on the phone with Grandma
waving to the mailman
answering the door for the Pizza Hut man
greeting his babysitter yesterday

As you can imagine, I pay my babysitters REALLY well ($50 for four hours of work plus takeout). Just as I pay my weekly housekeeper above the going rate so she doesn't quit in despair.

Babysitter arrived. Naked Demon Baby greeted him. For the record, the babysitter arrived early. I had scheduled a 20-minute "wrestle some clothes on Demon Baby" session so the babysitter wouldn't think I was clinically insane allowing my child to be nude all the time. But with babysitter's early arrival, he (guy babysitter) was greeted by full frontal.

"Sorry," I apologized.

I was able to convince Demon Baby that he and babysitter would have LOADS more fun if Demon Baby at least wore dinosaur underpants.

"Why?"

"'Cause it's like a secret club. All the guys wear dinosaur underwear. They just don't advertise it like you do. But trust me on this one."

So I got him in underwear.

He fell asleep on the couch at 8:00 just as I got home. I put him to bed. The minute his head hit the pillow--IN HIS SLEEP--he kicked his legs and removed his underwear, rolled over and went on to Naked Dreams.

Management is close to giving up.

But I bet you all are jealous about the dinosaur underwear.

Naked Strike, Week II

Negotiations between Management and Demon Baby have broken down.

Total nakedness enters Week 2.

We went to the planetarium. I told him planetarium outings required clothes. He consented. Briefly. We started walking inside.

"I need to take off my shoes and socks."

"Why?"

"They itch me."

"You have to wear shoes and socks or you can't see the planets and stars inside."

Huffing his displeasure, he followed me inside.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

I led him to the ladies room. He chose a stall. "I'm locking it so you don't look at me while I pee."

"I've seen it all before, Demon Baby."

"Still . . . KEEP OUT."

I could see him shedding clothes underneath the stall door.

"Demon Baby, open this bathroom stall right now."

"NO!"

He emerged, as you can imagine, naked. BUT wearing his shoes and socks.

"You cannot tour the planetarium naked. We'll be kicked out. I may appreciate your Naked Strike, but the Planetarium Union will not accept this."

"Why?"

"Because, generally, people wear clothes in public."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Well, that's stupid."

"Don't say stupid, that's potty mouth."

"I love potty mouth."

"I know. Get dressed."

Huffing again. "Fine. But I'm not wearing underwear."

"Commando it is. Just put on CLOTHES."

He did. As soon as we got home, talks further broke down.

Naked Strike continues.