Step-by-Step: Making Aliyah to Canad...er...Israel

Documenting the very personal process of making Aliyah (immigration to Israel) by one very atypical Israeli-Ameri...um... American-Israeli girl. Aliyah on 17, August, 2005. Roadmap: What do you mean there's no roadmap?! Is there an atlas? A geopolitical blueprint? A globe? Hang on, we're in for a bumpy ride! Oy!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Diaper training, bootleg DVDs and moral equivalence

I don't remember it being this rough. The late nights. The A&D ointment in my hair. The spraying.
I can't understand why Matun is excelling at sewing, Russian ballet and scrapbooking, but can't seem to understand the concept of a diaper.
I didn't have this trouble with Mischa (oh Mischa! Ahhh. I hope the army is cooking your hard-boiled eggs just how you like them!). Yep. Mischaleh took to diapers right away, allowing me to view six flats in one afternoon when I first got here.
The diaper debate has really taken off in the past few years. After running into trouble with Matun, I picked up Dr. Spock's Baby and Cat Care, 7th Edition and to my surprise, he dedicated an entire chapter to the issue. One uber kewl tidbit I wish I had read right away:

123. When changing a male cat, put a spare diaper loosely over his appendage, until
you're ready to fasten the diaper. This will keep you from getting sprayed if he
happens to urinate before you're done.
Yikes! Ain't it the truth! The next chapter had a fascinating discussion on whether it was best to move on to potty training or just skip right ahead to the toilet. Heh. Who knew?

So there I was, passed out on the couch with Pandy asleep on my stomach when I heard Matun squeal from the kitchen. It must've been like three in the morning. I jumped up and ran to find him standing arch-legged in a puddle of his own making. Sux!
I picked him up, wiped his paws with baby wipes and brought him to the changing table. Heh. You ever try to get a cat in a bathtub? This was ten times worse! He fought me every step of the way. Done, half asleep and full of buttpaste, I heard a noise from the bedroom. It sounded strangely like people speaking self-consciously about the morality of their actions when responding to the immorality of others.
I put Matum in his Graco Pak N' Play and crept to the bedroom. When I tip-toed in, I found a startled Buffy with the remote control in her paw and an illegal copy of "Munich" in the DVD player.
"Buffy?!"
"Yael?!"
"Buffy! What are you doing?!"
"I'm... Uhhh... I'm learning about the history of your people."
"Buffy, that's not an accurate portrayal of events but rather an apologetic attempt at moral equivalency between terrorism and counter-terrorism! Where did you get that DVD?!"
"I can't say."
"BUFFY!"
"Heh."
"You tell me right now or no catnip hits tomorrow."
"Mischa sent it in the mail. He said he got it from some Palestinian cat named Fatah. Fatah Cat."
"The truth, Buffy."
"Yael, is there really a boycott of Cat Bulldozers?"
"I'm not talking politics at three in the morning."
"'Cause I have stock in Cat and..."
"Goodnight Buffy."
"Yael?"
"What?"
"Is that buttpaste in your hair?"

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