Why on earth did we get this cat!?
Okay, okay, this will pass. But she sure hasn’t been making me very “happy” yet. She doesn’t like the litter box we got her, and maybe it’s the food we’re feeding her, but her poo is all runny. And of course, it’s now everywhere. On the sofa. On the carpet. On the floor. Geez, in two days, the house is a wreck. Finally the baby has begun calming down, and now we have a whole ‘nother bundle of unpredictable messiness running around.
The thing that really makes me upset is the thought that my baby might get sick from the cat poo. I don’t know enough, but I’ve heard that the two definitely don’t mix, and it can actually be quite dangerous for the kid. Something about a toxo disease that cats can sometimes have in their poo. Adults just get a bit ill, but apparently it can seriously harm infants. So, I’ve kept Celia away from every poo spot to the best of my knowledge, but this morning I was wondering, “Is it okay for her to roll around on that section of the carpet? Sure, I didn’t see anything, but what if…”
I did a lot of praying this morning. Insight into the cat. Protection for my little girl. Patience. Clarity.
I did feel some clarity at the end of it, actually. Both the baby and kitten were quite delightful to watch, and I thought, okay, we’ll get through this. And I came to some action steps. I locked the kitten in the bathroom before I left for work this morning, and left a note for Michelle to purchase a more sand-like litter, a second, smaller litter box, and a small portion of different food for young kittens.
I do think this is a remarkable cat. Besides all the pooing, she’s been delightful. She followed me around everywhere last night, and would either sit in my lap or want to play. It wanted to sleep with us, but was too frisky so we locked it out. Yes, I do like her. I just hope and pray we get through this episode without hurting our baby.
It’s amazing to me how protective I am of Celia. I feel like a mama-bear, ultra-paranoid about whatever might cause the baby harm and ready to pounce at the first sign of danger. It’s only natural, I’m sure, to be a bit over-protective in certain areas. I want her to have a good, healthy upbringing. It would suck if some little thing ruined her life.
These kinds of thoughts are a dramatic shift for me. I remember two years ago not really worrying whether I live or die, and now here I am over-analyzing all sorts of situations so that my daughter can grow up to be a healthy, happy individual. Before, I figured I could die, heck I’d get to heaven sooner, right? Now I think, that would be terrible. I’d leave Michelle alone with Celia, and Celia without a dad! Terrible!
I guess in the end it comes down to faith. There’s only so much I can do as a human being. I can’t protect her from everything. There’s a point you get to where you just have to say, “Okay, God, I ask you to protect her.” Not that I’ll be negligent or thoughtless, but at a certain point, I’ve really got to trust that there is a God who cares and intercedes, or I’ll end up a nervous wreck.
Either that, or I’ll become one of those over-protective parents who raises kids who resent them because they feel like they never were allowed to experience life on their own terms. Nope, I won’t be that kind of parent. I’ll do my best to teach Celia all she needs to know to experience life on her own. But in order to do that, I’ve got to be thoughtful to prepare her, and I’ve got to have lots of trust that someone, besides me and Michelle, and with a lot more power than us, is watching over her as well. God only knows how much we need it.