Our very own pee pee machines. What I’ve ALWAYS wanted.
I wrote this post back when we first rescued Hanna, and I’m not sure why I never posted it. But I’ve been re-inspired to let it go live thanks to my friend’s observations of our urine-clean up skills this past weekend during reunion festivities. She stated the following:
I have to say that I’m particularly impressed with the urine-related aspects of your caregiving. I now feel totally confident that if I get too excited to see you and pee on your couch next time, that it will be handled with preternatural calmness and grace.
You see, when a couple friends came over to visit, Hanna peed on the couch because OH MY GOD, PEOPLE! NEW PEOPLE! NEW EXCITING DELICIOUS PEOPLE! I JUST CAN’T CONTROL… and then the pee… In response, James and I methodically went about our pee-pee clean up duties. No screams. No fuss. Because, HELLO!, welcome to our life! See below.
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James and I are not what one would define as “morning” people. In fact, we are the polar opposite – as in, we are creatures of the night. Nocturnal beasts. Kindred spirits to the owl. Brethren to the bat.
You get my drift.
I would give anything to be someone who is all peppy and full of life and spunk and productivity at the crack ass of dawn. However, I get my burst of energy and creativity starting at around 11pm. TOTALLY conducive to a normal schedule of sleep.
Nope. Not in the least.
I envy folks I see all bushy-tailed and bedecked in athletic apparel before the stroke of noon.
And by envy, I sometimes will them to collapse from exhaustion just so they can, ya know, see how it feels to be one of *us*.
Prior to motherhood, my ideal schedule found me awake until 2-3am, and sleeping til 10am. 7-8 hours of sleep. Sadly, not a time frame that most employers deem acceptable.
Addison has shaken things up a bit. But I’ve mostly had to adjust my schedule because of this whole regularly-scheduled-employment-shtick I’ve undertaken.
You’re thinking, Um, Ashley, isn’t that like THE mark of parenthood, to be awoken in the wee hours of the morning by a little one?!
You see, I just don’t get those parents who are all, GOD, my kid has me up at 5am! And I’m all, Well, what time do you put them to bed? And they’re all, SIX O’CLOCK IN THE EVENING.
And I’m all, ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON!?
Um, DUH! Of course your child wakes up at the break of dawn when s/he goes to bed so freaking early.
No no no no no no NO! Addison goes to bed between 8-9pm, and sleeps until 8-9am the following day. So. Damn. Civilized. And a decent compromise for night crawlers like ourselves.
A puppy however, DIFFERENT STORY!
We cannot control a puppy in quite the same capacity, so we braced ourselves for the 5am wake up demands, and forced ourselves into bed at 10pm the other night.
5:30 am rolled around and Hanna began whining, which stirred Ursa who began pacing and smacking her lips for breakfast, because HEY! If the pup is awake, why not me? Which consequently woke Addison.
James and I threw ourselves out of bed to brace the day – I headed to the nursery while he herded the frantic black beasts. Addison was HOWLING because she was by no means ready to be awake. Her death scream was epic thanks to her cold, damp, bare-baby-bummies-in-the-breeze. While I fumbled in the dark to the sounds of a tortured, angry babe, Hanna flew into the nursery with James chasing behind. She was REFUSING to go out the door because James had bathed her in the back, and she felt about the hose the way Addison feels about sleeves.
They are the devil. Period.
So while James is scooping her up to carry her furry puppy bum outside, she pees. All. Over.
James is wailing, OH MY GOD, it’s in my face! MY MOUTH! UGHHHHHH! as he scampers out of the room, which causes me to loose hold of Addison who flips onto her belly and creates a flood all over the changing table so that we are now both saturated in urine.
As James and I each deal with our pee-pee prone little ones, Ursa sits regally by all, Idiots. I told you that you should have stopped at one.
One being HER.
That bitch may be on to something.
However, James and I love this shit more than anyone could possibly put to words. Urine and all.
Someone looks a bit crispy in the early morning like her parents.
