>Abby is potty trained… mostly. With her going to the potty comes a whole set of problems all new to me. Most of this is dealing with her independent spirit. Today she was wearing a “princess” dress that she refused to take off. I let her do that because, well you are only two once and it becomes somewhat unacceptable to dress in renaissance wear after a certain age. I believe I remember my mother letting me wear a Tinkerbell outfit all day long and I definitely remember my brother’s obsession with cowboy boots, shorts and a football helmet that he wore altogether for most of the year he was three.
So she’s wearing this dress and she rushes to the potty. It’s hard enough to go to the bathroom as an adult in a long dress. She almost had it. I was unavailable to wipe her at the moment she wanted me to so I watched helplessly as she slid from the potty sliming it with pee. Amazingly, her dress escaped being dunked and slimed by the toilet seat. In celebration she did a twirl that swung the once unscathed material toward the wet seat.
Almost in slow motion, I watched. As it was happening, a million things ran through my mind. Would I be able to ignore the tiny spot of pee that was inevitably going to be on the hem? Should I attempt to wrestle her out of the dress? How well would the costume hold up in the washing machine? Isn’t pee sterile? Do I care if it’s sterile?
Yes. I have an almost unnatural issue with bodily functions and all that comes from them. That’s why I am not a nurse. Little did I know that pregnancy, childbirth and parenting would just as bad.
The dress swung onto the seat and the tiniest wet spot appeared… And Daddy walked in and I left him to deal with it. That’s what daddy’s are for!
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Location:Home in Missoula Montana