As you get older your bladder gets smaller. I’m not sure that’s scientifically accurate, but in my mind… it’s fact.
Because of that 3:51 AM seems like a logical time to get up from a deep sleep to pee. <bitter sigh>
At 3:52 I’m washing my hands and drying them off when I hear the kid’s bedroom door open. I mentally cuss and wait.
3:52.5 Blondie walks in the bathroom complaining. She rubs the sleep from her eyes like she’s mad at the world, flips the lid I just put down back up, tosses the potty seat on, rips her Pull Up off, doesn’t bother moving the step stool from beside the toilet to the front but instead just launches herself with one foot on the edge of the step stool and twists mid-air landing squarely on the seat.
She pees immediately and says, without looking at me, “I need to wipe my butt.” It was funny two seconds after she said it, but that first second I wanted to give her a coming to Jesus speech. Instead I tear her off a piece, she snatches it, wipes, jumps off the seat, flushes and grumbles, “I need a new diaper.”
I think at this point I salute her and told her to follow me.
It’s now 3:54 and as I’m walking to the kitchen to toss her old Pull Up in the trash I realize we’re out of them so I’ll have to go to the garage to get a spare. (Let me interject that we were given some HUGE Pull Ups that fit children 60 to 100lbs. Blondie is 32lbs… )
As I’m pulling out a spare from a cardboard box right outside the back door I’m assaulted by harsh florescent lights, about a dozen of them. I have one eye closed and the other is no doubt in a bit of a scowl. I turn around to find Blondie doing the same thing at me but with her hand outstretched for the Pull Up. I hand the giant thing to her and she had the nerve to look at me with her one good eye and frown.
I snatch it back, put it on her and before she can complain I sit at the desk and told her to stand in front of me. Now, we’ve used these before and I know that if I folded them down and use duct tape they’ll work in a pinch. But the duct tape is in our bedroom (don’t ask) and I don’t want to wake the house pulling a large piece off. I mean, you may not know this but you can wake the dead tearing that stuff.
So I use my MacGyver skills and staple one side and fold it down. Don’t judge me, it worked. Granted Blondie all but rolled her one good eye at me, but I told her not to complain and to go to bed. She wasn’t moving though. Instead she rubs her eyes again and says, “I’m hungry.”
“Child, it’s 3:00 AM, you are not eating.”
“But I’m hungry.”
“You are not, you are tired. Go to bed.”
I pick her up, kiss her on the cheek and calmly tell her she’s sleepy. (Every mom thinks she has the power of suggestion…)
She's not convinced and starts to whine about how she can’t make it till morning. So I start to whine that kids should be duct taped to their beds.
She giggled; I kissed her again and laid her down.
She was breathing heavy before I had a chance to check on the other two and shut the door.
…at 3:59 I lay down, recap the story to the husband interjecting things like, “She peed like a boss!” “She scowled at me like a boss lady” and we both laughed like fools till he fell back to sleep. JERK!
I laid there till 4:15 then realize I wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon.
CURSE YOU OLD LADY BLADDER! CURSE YOU!!!