My alarm went off at 2 a.m. this morning. The 18-month old sleep regression alarm. I didn’t really believe that sleep regression was a thing, but I’m totally a believer now. Our little guy has been doing everything on that list. Refusing naps, refusing to go to bed at night, screaming in the middle of the night, fussy, clingy, no appetite. It’s very similar to an ear infection actually. Since his brother is prone to ear infections, I figured that was his problem. I had him at the doctor-nothing. I gave him Tylenol-nothing. I tried essential oils-nothing. So, I looked it up. If the internet is correct, as it almost always is, he has what they call The 18 Month Sleep Regression *echo *echo *echo. Apparently it can last from 2 up to 8 weeks.
8 weeks? F*@k! Well, the oldest is getting up to pee at least once every night so it’s not like I sleep anyway. Finally something the two of them can synchronize.
Well, this little sleep regression alarm is what got me up last night. When I saw that it was 2 a.m. I was concerned because my 3 1/2 year old had not yet gotten up to go potty. Uh oh! He always gets up around 1 so I expected the worst. After soothing the screamer, I went to check on the big boy, sound asleep, sprawled out on top of his blankets, SOAKED. It’s such a sad sorry thing to find your little baby sleeping in a puddle. I had to wake him, change him, and change his bed. Needless to say, he was less than thrilled and probably would have preferred I just leave him alone in his puddle. He had an accident the night before so I had gambled last night and quickly threw on a couple layers thinking “he’s not going to pee again tonight”. Well, I should know Vegas isn’t my thing. I’m a penny slots kind’a gal. My gambling skills are zilch! Of course he peed-a gallon! He had a tiny 1/4C of milk before bed. How does it multiply in their system to equal an entire gallon of pee?
Before I got him back in bed I decided a quick trip to the bathroom wouldn’t hurt. There can’t possibly be any more pee in that tiny body, but lets do it anyway. It’s more about the habit I guess. He was pretty much asleep so I propped him up on the potty in the dark, his little booty so far down in that potty it was probably dipping, elbows rested on his knees, cheeks rested on his hands, asleep. He started to go, alot. I could hear it…and then I could feel it. There was one little matter I forgot about, or more never thought about. That little guy wasn’t pointed down. Actually, it was stuck straight up in the air. It was dark. He was curled up in a tight sleeping peeing ball.
“Wait, I don’t get it. It’s going everywhere!” I started to shout. “Stop! Stop!” I said. I tried to push my hand in, just to assist in getting some of it into the potty. I was unsuccessful. It was EVERYWHERE. I was up to my elbows in pee, dripping everywhere. I stood there in my husband’s perfectly comfy, most favorite, worn to a thread, pre-pregnancy t-shirt that I refuse to put away for 9 months and my underwear. I was soaked! His nice clean jammies were soaked. The tile was soaked. There was no rug to catch a drop because the little guy peed all over it before bath time earlier that evening. I just started at the top and started to clean, in the dark. I got everything cleaned up, got him off the potty, stood him up, and he just looked at me.
“I’m so sorry mommy”
“Oh, hunny, don’t be sorry. It’s ok. These things happen.”
*yeah! you shouldn’t be the sorry one. Somebody many generations before you should have thought twice before giving a potty training child control, or lack thereof, over such an important piece of equipment.
I have two boys, I’m no stranger to stray pee. Usually it’s on my hands, or maybe I’ve stepped in it. But NEVER have I been showered in pee.
I got him snuggled back in bed, changed my clothes and got back into bed. It was 2:30. I couldn’t expect to sleep much more. I dozed maybe and then around 5:30 the alarm went off again. This time it was the foster cat lurching, heaving, please don’t puke on my stuff alarm. I didn’t have my phone as a flashlight. I didn’t have a magazine to slip under his mouth. I couldn’t see a damn thing anyway.
I just waited for it to be over.
I lay there awake, trapped, wondering where he did it, how bad it was.
Preparing myself for yet another form of bodily fluid to find me.