Diapering a toddler...

It’s amazingly similar to giving a cat a pill. Oh while we are at it, making a toddler do anything he doesn’t want to do, sit still and be diapered, have his teeth brushed, get into the carseat, or be dressed, is quite similar to giving a cat a pill. And unfortunately I know far too much about giving a cat a pill. (AB would laugh at that last statement “a pill”.) I am tired, tired, tired of wrestling Leif to the ground to simply change a poopy diaper. And I am nearing the point of “fine, don’t brush your teeth, eat the plaque cleaning dog food instead, it must work look at Winny’s teeth” and resigning to the “well ok, let’s turn your carseat and see if you like it more that way. I am a careful driver, we aren’t going to get in an accident”. Clothing, not an option, going butt naked in November is not acceptable. But on the scale of battles, that one is minor, and one that on occasion Leif shows interest in helping with. Ok, so mostly picking out his clothes is what he shows interest in, but darn he is good at pulling his socks off.

My 21 year old cat died a few months before Leif was born. When she was a young, spry 15 years old she was diagnosed with diabetes and liver failure due to extreme cirrhosis. And I never even realized she had a drinking problem. ;-) All kidding aside, amazingly, these aren’t life threatening illnesses in a cat’s life as long as one exercises diligence in administering three pills a day, some twice a day (a synthetic bile, Vitamin K and an oral diabetes pill for mild cases). Cal-kitty was a feisty one, as all calicos are. And for 6 years, everyday, she fought tooth and nail (literally and to the demise of many a tooth and nail) both for her life and against the pills that unbeknownst to her helped her fight for her life. During her 7^th year of being drugged daily she encountered another “not necessarily life threatening illness common to cats”, kidney failure. I can’t remember if she took pills for this or not. In fact, I think I opted not to administer any meds and lean towards a “benevolent neglect” of the kidney failure. She was after all 21 years old.

A few months later she declined and I remember sitting in Leif’s newly painted nursery sobbing as she convulsed in my hands. I knew it was time, yet she had been in my life since I was 11 years old, so still I hesitated. We took her to the vet that Sunday as an emergency and Hans and I sobbed as she was put down. There are days when I truly wonder if her extremely feisty spirit wormed its way into the child growing in my uterus. Days like the last 5, when Leif cannot be convinced to do anything he doesn’t want to and simply changing a diaper becomes a screaming match and a battle of wills and sheer strength, I am quite positive that Miss Calley’s spirit lives on.

My single consolation in this battle of wills is that diapering can’t possibly last 6-7 years, can it?