Just a wee post about pee (snicker)

The waiting room was full, but extremely stylish...

Things are starting to wind down over here, pregnancy-wise, and I am starting to get a little apprehensive regarding what is coming. Apprehensive might be the wrong word, actually. But I’m having a hard time coming up with what exactly is the right one.

I’ve about 6 weeks to go and am just starting my bimonthly doctor appointments. Tuesday is my first one and since I’m not totally jazzed about my doctor and the office staff, I’m not too jazzed about these more regular visits.

I had to swap out doctors this pregnancy when I found out that the physician that delivered Vince stopped delivering babies because of some random OR incident (or at least that’s what her office staff muttered to me when I asked. “Fractured collar-bone in the OR”, she said through pursed lips.)How that even happens, I honestly am not sure. Or if, indeed, it’s even true.

Anyways, I’m not in love with my physician is what it really boils down to. And I am not particularly fond of the office staff either since the second visit when they randomly asked me for a large sum of money without explaining why it was being requested. And then looked at me like I was an idiot for asking what it was for.

But let me just get my real issue out in the open air…

I went to put my urine sample in the bathroom cupboard…. Wait, is this tmi? Well, maybe just stop reading for a minute or so. Let me get this off my chest….

So as I was saying, I went to put my sample in the bathroom cupboard (designed specifically for this purpose so the medical staff can remove it from the outside by a separate door). I opened the cupboard. There literally were about 7 samples inside that had clearly been there for a while. And there was nowhere for mine.

I just kind of stood there for a few seconds, staring at all that pee. All that pee that belonged to other people, people named ‘Jennifer’ and ‘Samantha’. Ugh.

What the hell did I do with mine? I ran a couple of scenarios through my mind and finally settled on the least ridiculous one. I calmly shifted other peoples urine around on the shelf until there was room for mine and then carefully set it down.

And then I went out and washed my hands thoroughly.

What. The F.

It’s just a one physician practice. It’s a teeny office. There are 2  nurses. How on earth does it reach this stage especially when ones appointment is at 8:30?

I’m no stranger to urine and feces either. I do have a 3 1/2 year old. And a baby on the way. And a husband. It’s not like it’s a mystery. But there have to be some standards, right? You don’t just ignore a cupboard full of pee, especially since this is a ‘deposit’ you are expecting from every single patient that enters the office. You’ve got to give us some options other than ‘touch everyone elses pee cups to make room for mine’. Although, I guess I could have asked them to move it, or told them it was full instead of passive aggressively being angry about it still weeks later.

Bahahahaha…. Where’s the fun in that??

I will really enjoy going back to my previous physician once darling, sweetest baby girl has arrived. And never, ever stepping foot in that grotty little office again.

I hope you enjoyed my story about pee.

Happy Sunday night 🙂

xoxo a.m.

Stand-up

So over the course of the last few weeks, whilst I have otherwise been occupied by visitors, potty training has advanced rapidly. Most interesting.

Most interesting indeed. We have developed a bit of a routine which seems to be working well. Currently, V has 4 books to read on the potty. Usually each potty event is a lengthy one, requiring anywhere between 2 to 4 books. Sometimes with repeat reads on a particular favorite.

You also have to be completely naked. Well, not ‘you’, more like ‘him’. I remain fully clothed. So does Edward. There is a potty chart on the wall, smiley stickers on the counter and a little container of m&m’s. It’s a 3 pronged approach. I WILL get pee in the potty, even if it kills me.

Which it hasn’t! Hurray!!

We are currently averaging at least one pee on the potty per day. Miracle. He’s even poo’d on the potty too. Double miracle. Which is like a double rainbow…. a rare and awesome event.

Anyways, about a week and a half a new development arose. My Mum picked him up one day last month and come home with the news that Vince had done a ‘standup peepee’. Well, we were all in shock at hearing this news. I mean, A) where did he learn this and B) who taught him and C) where did he learn this?!

Honestly? Where did it come from! I’ve been doing 99% of the potty training. Ok, I’ve been doing %100 of the training. Edward was been ‘back-up’ and ‘support staff’ and sometimes ‘human resources’.

I’ve been teaching him to sit. But he has seen Daddy peepee a few times. And one of his potty books does have a picture of a baseball player doing a ‘standup peepee’.

So he’s self taught. Clearly a genius.

So when this miraculous event transpires at home, he usually has to be completely naked. He takes his little step stool over to the potty and puts it in front. Up he steps and then proceeds to balance himself by leaning forward with his hands on either the top of the toilet or holding on to the raised lid.

And then he simply leans forward.

Urine practically leaps out of his bladder and into the potty. Miracle!

Way more peeing going on then when he sits. WAY. It’s like a proper adult pee.

Hurray!! Huzzah!

“Mummy!! I need a paper towel!” (toilet paper), he shouted proudly at me, even though I was about 8 inches away from him.

I promptly tore off a piece of toilet paper and solemnly handed it to him. What he did next was not what I was expecting. He proceeded to lean down and wipe off the porcelain of the potty stating “Dis is icky. I clean it”.

Once clean, he proceeded to do what I had showed him to do with the toilet paper. Wipe.

Wipe! WIPE! Ack! As that little wad of tissue neared his ‘bits’ and I realized his intentions, I totally did a slow-mo leap towards his crotch (even though I was a foot away) and shouted “Nooooooooo…..!!!!!” in slow-mo as well.

I was too late. That paper dabbed at the bits and then was properly discarded in the potty. A sweet-faced smile proudly turned to me “Mummy! I did it!!!”

Ok, you sure did baby. You sure did.

I shudder thinking about the paper part, but thrill at the thought of him peeing on the potty. Who would have thought I would love urine so much?! Who would have thought toilets and I would be intimately involved?

Oh potty training, how I both love and loath you.

xoxo a.m.

 

Potty training? This site seems to have some tips and tricks for Mummies…

 

Hydrated

Superbowl is always a good time.

At half-time, my son put on quite the show. There was dancing, hand waving, some flailing and a few interesting moves involving ‘up and down’. A crowd of adults gathered around him, egging him on with some synchronized clapping and a few cheers.

After half-time, it was time for a quick bath at Gramma’s and a pj change. But for some reason, post half-time show, the bath was not a good idea. The getting naked part was though! V was so happy to strip down to his diaper. and also to just stare at the water filling the tub. And throw things into it. But actually get into the tub?

No. Way. In. Hell.

Every attempt I made to lower him into the water was met with his legs retracting and heading directly for my waist. ha! It was rather funny! I tried about 5 times and with each attempt, his shrieks got louder and louder until Grandparents ran into the bathroom with wide eyes, wondering what on earth was going on.

I settled for a bum-rinse. Good enough.

My Mum walked in while I was trying to diaper him while he was standing. Let’s just say I am not a pro. I am so not a pro that my Mother said “Hmmm, let’s just see how long that lasts”.

Well, it lasted pretty long. I was feeling a wee bit smug.

And then, around 1:30 am, he woke up crying. I think he was overtired from the party, the dancing and the nude streaking he did through the living-room.

I picked him up, snuggled him until he calmed down and cosied him up in his crib.

Walking back into our bedroom, I felt a little damp. I reached down to my stomach and pulled my damp tank top away from my skin. My fingers didn’t even understand what I was touching. I climbed into bed and snuggled up to the dog and the Big M.

My brain woke up about 2 minutes later and said “Jaime, that is urine.” I sat up in bed and pulled my top up to my nose and inhaled. Didn’t smell like pee. Didn’t smell like anything.

But I knew it was. And so, well, I got out of bed. Woke V back up. Changed him. Put him back to bed. Smelled my tank top again (Why?! Why!!!). Changed out of it. And then back to bed.

So. What is up with me smelling my pee-soaked top? And what is up with it smelling like nothing??

I must have an incredibly well-hydrated child.