This post actually has very little to do with babies, and a lot to do with how far I can be pushed before I give in.
Our cat loves the bathtub. I don't know why. Sometimes he licks the water out of it, and sometimes he just sits in it. We decided several months ago to keep him out of the bathroom, because when he hangs out in the tub I have to clean it out every couple of days. Cleaning out the tub is not something I love to do, pregnant or not. I also worry that he'll lick up some soap residue or something and get sick, and then I'll have to clean up more than just the tub. Blech.
Over the past few days he has become more and more insistent about getting into the bathroom--he'll lean against the door when one of us is in there, and then when the door opens he bolts in and careens towards the tub. This is especially not amusing when it's 2:30 in the morning and he darts under my legs in the dark, threatening my already precarious sense of balance.
The battle for the bathtub came to a head last night. It started around midnight. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Over and over again. When that got no response, the cat let out a delightful half meow half howl that made me bolt out of bed to make sure he wasn't hurt, stuck somewhere, or dying (because, despite all the complaining I do, I really do love that animal). No, he was just sitting outside the bathroom door with huge kitty eyes that usually mean he's in a fightin' mood. I told him no, and went back to bed.
This went on all night. Eventually I had to use the bathroom, and while I was in there, he stuck his paws under the door and howled. When the door opened, under my feet he went and I had to drag him back out. Apparently, I didn't shut the door all the way because a few minutes later, when I was back in bed and just falling asleep, I hear thud thud thud creeeak. Sure enough, the cat had thrown his body weight against the door, gotten it open, and had his head in the drain by the time I stumbled in there. After I pulled him out, I checked his food, gave him fresh water in his bowl, and went back to bed.
This only angered the beast. We spent the rest of the night in this routine, only he mixed it up by coming to my side of the bed occasionally to howl.
After this overnight test of will, it got me thinking: should I just let the cat into the bathroom? I mean really, whats the big deal--other than the fact I've been telling him no for months now? He obviously understands. I feel like if I give in now, I will be a kitty enabler. If I'm such a pushover with the cat, what am I going to do when my son pushes my buttons? When I put him in his crib at night, and he screams and screams only to grin at me when I finally go in, am I going to let him get up/sleep with mommy and daddy/have a cookie or whatever it is he wants? Maybe that doesn't seem like such a big deal, but what about when he gets older and he's used to Mommy being a pushover?
I have no good answer. I guess it's just one of those things that we'll handle on a case-by-case basis. But I will say this: it is now past noon on the day after the epic bathroom skirmish, and I am still in my pajamas, hair unbrushed, trying to find the energy to start packing up our apartment. And the cat? He's sound asleep, in the middle of our bed, with a smug look on his face.
No comments:
Post a Comment