Three and a half years old. If I had to pick an age that i LEAST like being, it's that limbo stage between 3 and 3 1/2. Let me explain. Up until about 3 years old, I'm completely (and I suppose blissfully) unaware of what my body is doing at least in terms of, ahem, natural functions. Just a sudden spreading warmth or tail lift and well, it's over. Get a quick change, and it's done and life goes back to normal (or as normal as it can be for me, anyway).

However, right around 3 years old, I start to become cognizant of what's going on. My body starts to communicate that somethings about to happen. Great, right? Well, it would be if it did so in time for me to do anything about it. The younger I am, the less warning there is. A few seconds right at 3, gradually getting longer as I get older. So, yeah... initiate panic mode but there's nothing I can do about it unless I'm already undressed and actually in the bathroom. Pull-ups aren't even an option at this stage cause, well, I'm a pretty heavy wetter and they can't handle enough.

So, there's that balancing point right around 3 1/2 years old where I THINK I might just be able to handle going without diapers, but experience (and lots of wet pants and spotted carpets) has taught me that I'm simply fooling myself. Drives me absolutely nuts. My desire to not have to wear diapers battles with the knowledge that I really do need them still.

Fortunately for me (and our security deposit), Bella knows my body nearly as well as I do, sometimes better. She makes sure I'm properly outfitted, even if I protest and pout and insist that I can handle it even when I really can't. Thank goodness for that.

Art, Brock & Bella ©