She’s been keeping us on our toes. Getting her out of the bath, I laid her on my bed and ran for a diaper. You would not know I have been doing this gig for almost 10 years. When I got back and started to dry her off I noticed an ominous yellow stain. “Beansie did you pee?” “Yes,” was the complacent reply. I pulled up the towel and saw there was a little yellow stain on my coverlet, a smaller one on both sheets and the mattress pad and a tiny stain on the mattress itself. Argh.
“How could you wet my bed!” I said.
“Axcelly, it was the towole.” A pedant at two.
“Axcelly, you wet every layer on my bed.” I corrected.
She had trouble sleeping and Birdie evacuated the room around 9:00 to try and sleep on our bed. Around 9:30 I heard Beanie yelling for her “stistah”. I went in to check on her. She complained that her tummy hurt so I hauled her out. I was wrestling her into a pair of jammies when she said she had some poopie. That is how she announces her need for the facilities – as if the deed was already done. I checked her diaper and asked her if she needed to sit on the potty. “Yes, on my potty train.”
She sat there for a few minutes before Paul called me over to look at something that most adults would be relieved to excrete. (What a nasty verb.) There was some extensive wiping involved and then she was trying to wrestle the pot free from her chair, since pouring it in the toilet to flush is the main thrill, when her hand grazed the enormous poo sticking out. Paul and I both made sounds of pain and I hurriedly grabbed some more wet wipes and decontaminated her little paw.
Just file the two of us jammed into that tiny, smelly bathroom helping our two year old with her business under “You know you are a parent when…”
Ours is a very large file.
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I am sooo glad to be done with that stage.
At one point in my life, I had a potty training toddler, an infant, and a feeble incontinent dog all under the same roof. The dog had to be put down, but was soon replaced (WHAT WERE WE THINKING??) by five newborn kittens and their mama cat who was mad as hell that we wouldn’t let her outside to play until she’d weaned the kittens and made a trip to the vet to prevent more from arriving on the scene. She expressed her displeasure by using my son’s bed–specifically his pillow–as her litter box several times (several pillows). Neither she nor the kittens lasted long.
The kittens were cute and easily forgiven for their lack of litter box manners. The cat was Ridiculous. Seriously. That was its name.
Way too many critters unable (or unwilling) to neatly contain their bodily functions for one home. Gained a few gray hairs and wrinkles during that time period.
P.S.
Do NOT click on that spammer’s link above. I was curious how it got through your security system, so I clicked on it myself to see what it was. The website I was taken to immediately started trying to download stuff onto my hard drive, without me even knowing it was happening until the download failed (gotta love my slow connection sometimes) and the system informed me that it had been unsuccessful. Scary.
Oh Lady, You are crazy.
I have promised to train the Bean before she goes away to college. Both the big kids trained late but literally overnight.
Years later one of them is having problems that we have not yet resolved despite many a trip to the doctor. I am reluctant to unleash another bladder on the world although I know Beanie would train easily and quickly. I asked Paul to do it, but he hasn’t really jumped on it.
Good times. Good times.
Hilarious, Alison. At times like these, I console myself with the thought of my own senility and one day peeing on their beds while they’re changing my diaper.