Thursday, August 28, 2014
What's that perfume I'm wearing? Eau de Pee
Tap tap. Tap tap. That is how I get woken up these days, a bunch of taps on my shoulder or boobs or whatever body part Max happens to hit. He has to use the bathroom.
This is major. It used to be that sometimes Max wet his bed in the morning, but for the last few months he has stayed dry overnight and when he wakes up, he's gotta go.
He is heading toward being fully potty trained, except for two things. One, he cannot pull his bottoms or undies up and down on his own. And two, when he pees it goes everywhere. Although the same could be said of some fully grown men I know and I am not naming names, nope, not me.
We've been trying to figure out what might help with pants independence. Buttons and zippers are way beyond Max's fine-motor skills at this point. A while ago, I met a woman at a fair who was sewing magnets into pants closures, and one of these days I'll find someone nearby who could help me figure that out. Meanwhile, I'm going to be buying sweatpants one size too big and sew in some loops.
The free-for-all peeing is a whole other story. Like I was saying, fine motor skills are a challenge, so holding does not come into play, hence the spray. That old trick of teaching boys to aim at Cheerios floating around the toilet isn't yet something Max is capable of. Our bathrooms are on the cozy side, so pee on the floor is just one problem.
Pee has gotten on the walls.
Pee has gotten on the shower curtain.
Pee has gotten on the bathroom vanity.
Pee has gotten on the bathroom rug and floor.
Pee has gotten on the bathroom towels.
Pee has gotten on my work shoes.
Max is entirely too amused by his reach. You know, like a boy.
Once, pee got on the bottom my blouse, only somehow I didn't realize it till I was on the train headed to my office and I thought, Ewww, what's that smell? And I realized it was me. A quick stop at Ann Taylor Loft saved me. Really, parenthood is generally hazardous to your work wardrobe. When the kids were babies, at times I had the distinct scent of Eau de Spit Up. Once, I went to work with a piece of spaghetti on my chest.
I do realize that the free-form spritzing is a relatively good problem to have. I'm grateful for Max's potty progress. And he even puts the toilet seat down when he's done...unlike some fully grown men I know.
Posted by Ellen Seidman at 6:40 AM