Once again, I come to you WEAK and TIRED because my kids were (big shock coming! Brace yourself!) up in the night. First it was Elijah who was up at 1:11 am until 2 am, when I finally just plopped him down in his crib because he was flopping all over me with his eyes closed (!) and I was just a useless bag of flesh. He whimpered a little but then thankfully fell back asleep. The next day he pushed himself up from his belly into a sitting position! So I guess we now know what's up with the little dude!
(Have I mentioned to you yet that Little Dude is now a super-fast army crawler and can also get cabinet doors open?! If you need me I'll be at Target pondering the childproofing supplies, wondering if there's anything made by man who can thwart one of my children when they are determined to open something. So far? The answer is NO.)
But this leaves us with Syd! Who on the same night woke up at 3:30 WAILING. Now, let's back up here a minute and reveal something to you about my daughter: She has a flair for the dramatic and tends to overexaggerate. She – it pains me to admit (and I'm sure this will also shock you all after you read this post) – inherited that from her mama. OOPS.
For instance: As of late, my daughter insists that her underwear MUST BE CHANGED every time she uses the potty because "THESE ARE WET!" Dudes. They are never wet. But unless she gets a "dry" pair when she demands them she runs around with her lady parts hanging out and inevitably she flashes the postman or sneaks out behind me when I need to get something out of the car or garage and streaks the driveway and thus the neighbors.
So. Diva gets her "dry" underwear.
Anyhoodle, when we first started potty training and she started experiencing a "full" bladder she would insist that "her privates hurt." At first – before I figured out what she meant – this really concerned me! Did she have a bladder infection? A UTI? WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BABY!? (and just as a side note, I totally racked my brains and FREAKED OUT that someone had hurt her in some way until I realized it was totally impossible … and that there were no other warning signs or red flags. Also I need to say that I was dealing with some serious anxiety issues back then that have since subsided). A few keystrokes later, Dr. Google convinced me that she was quite well. I finally put it together when one morning she woke up with a dry diaper – IN TEARS – and commenced to empty her bladder in a way that would make racehorses blush: Homegirl had to go p-o-t-t-y.
This did not prevent her, however, from insisting to several people at church and preschool that her PRIVATES HURT. I got more than one concerned talking-to from people who meant well about this issue, and I was very happy to explain to them that this was her language for "I gotta go potty!!" and we were working on it.
And so the other night when she woke up at 3:30 in the morning and had to go pee? Instead of politely calling out from her crib, "Hey Mama! Come and get me! I gotta go potty!" I hear the gutteral wailings of a poor soul who can only have just woken from the worst nightmare ever in history, complete with hiccups: "MAW MUUUH WA-HA-HAAAAA-HA! WAAAAAAAH!" Of course I jolt out of bed in a stupor, run down the hall before my limbs are really even awake to find my daughter, snuggled up in her bed without a tear in her eye.
"Hi Mama." And a little wave.
DUDE. I knew EXACTLY what was up. I put her on the potty chair we keep in her room, she did her thing, then I put her back in bed and we were done. Not another peep.
And in the morning when she woke up? SAME DEAL. Super hectic drama to wake up, I put her on the potty and she goes pee and then she's FINE (even though she sometimes first insists that she doesn't have to go potty).
So all of this leads me to beg the question: Is it time to release her from her Crib Prison and at least put the rail on the side so she can get up and take herself potty in the night/in the morning instead of giving me a heart attack? I JUST got the kids napping again after a MONTH of only a nap here or there and I'm not ready to give that up. I'm also not ready to do some kind of crazy dance where she WILL NOT stay in her bed. We call the girl Blonde Tornado for a reason: she cannot be contained, y'all (except by the crib. Oh how I love the crib).
Any advice? Any commiseration?
(psst! I'm sharing my new favorite shorts over at Style Lush today: Shorts for people who hate shorts)