We will fight this battle with our wit and these sharp things.

Since my arrival, Kate has been the easy one. Though not even two years old, she dresses herself with ease and lies quietly as I change her diaper. No troubles.

That ended about five days ago. It started after a diaper change. I held out her pants for her to climb in, and she said, "Nee" and took them from me. She sat down and proceeded to put them on herself. This is fine. As long as there's time, it's good to encourage her to do things on her own. We had time.

But then she took her legs out. Then she put one in, then sat awhile. When I tried to help her, she said, "Nee" and took her leg out again. I tried to force the pants on, and she started kicking. (Despite my obvious advantages of size and strength, it is remarkably difficult to put clothes on a child who doesn't want to wear them.)

Then her mother came in. Apparently 20 minutes is a long time in which to change a diaper. She picked Kate up, put her pants on, and we were out of there in, oh, 10 seconds. Kate didn't offer so much as an alien-sounding noise in retaliation.

I had just been humiliated by a toddler.

This fight continued at naptime. She kept squirming and kicking out of her little sleep sack. She kept crying. She kept screaming, "Papa!" as if I were trying to murder her. All this from the girl who usually takes naps joyously.

Simply add screaming and kicking to every task we had to complete, and you have a pretty good idea of what my days with Kate have been like.

So, two days ago, I used my size and strength to overpower the little tyke. She still cried, but she was wearing a sweater. Yesterday, no crying whatsoever. I think I might have made some progress.