When Toddler Flails-a-lot is sick she sleeps in. Since Husband-cat telecommutes, this means we all sleep in. We could wake her bright and early at 7am (I know, late for you normal people) or we could sleep. We always choose sleep. This occasionally has a distressing drawback of not getting her up before she completely douses her pajamas, blankets, teddy bear(s), and crib in pee.
This skill of massive urination seems to be growing the older she gets. After this morning's flood I hung everything up to dry until I laundered or added it to "disgusting liquid" pile of clothes. After hanging from 8am to 8pm, I pulled everything down and decided to wash it. Her pajamas, after 12 hours of drying were still so sopping wet that the cloth stuck to my arms as I turned them inside out, like a dead, urine soaked skin suit. Each sleeve was suctioned to my skin in the most revolting, moist way imaginable. It was one of those little things that shouldn't have bothered me but completely skeeved me out. Not what I needed right after dinner.
Just when I think I'm completely inured to the bodily function based experiences of parenting along comes something new to make my skin crawl. Endless, endless new experiences, is parenting.
You can add this to the list of toys Toddler Flails-a-lot is never getting. She doesn't need a role model.
Image via wardomatic's flickr page.
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