Peer Pressure or Pull Ups?

by Bridget Riepl, guest blogger

I woke up this morning with pee all over me.

I don’t mean that metaphorically, like when people say “you have egg on your face” in an embarrassing situation. I mean it VERY literally. Patrick climbed into my bed around 2 AM and peed all over me at some point between that bleary eyed moment and 6 AM, when my alarm started chirping.

Of course it was gross to wake up in a ½ drenched PJ top that I may never be able to look at the same way again, but let’s get real – #momlife involves getting peed on sometimes. What I wasn’t expecting was not 1, not 2, but 3 beds similarly soaked.

That’s right. Patrick managed to wet his bed AND my bed and, to add insult to sopping wet injury, Sadie wet HER bed. If you’re asking yourself “why doesn’t this woman have her kids in pull ups?” Believe me, I am asking myself the same question.

Except I already know the answer: peer pressure.

Sadie and Patrick are 4 ½ years old. Apparently that is waaaaaaaaaaay too old for pull ups. In fact, I’ve been told repeatedly that putting a layer of absorbent cushion between my kid and their Pottery Barn sheets is the root of the bedding wetting problem. Oh and if I DID decide to use pull ups, it would obviously be a selfish move motivated by my desire to avoid an extra load of laundry.

Except that isn’t true. Laundry is my favorite chore ever. If I could trade vacuuming and mopping just 1 floor for 10 yucky loads laundry, I’d say yes to the laundry every time. I love the feeling of warm, fresh fabrics. The detergent aisle is my jam. Dryer sheets smell heavenly. This has nothing to do with laundry.

Plus I promise you, we’ve tried all the right things. We stuck to a strict schedule/plan of no drinks before bed, one last potty call, a midnight bathroom run and a strategically place night light, illuminating a clear path to the potty.

Spoiler alert: the best laid plans of mice and moms don’t work for everyone. Some of us still end up in the bathroom at 6:15 AM, covered in pee, listening to one kid proudly announce:

“Patrick peed all over mommy and I only peed on myself!”

Because she only peed on herself.

Both kids dissolved into giggles and, after tossing my shirt and the first load of laundry into our machine, I did too. Because in that moment I realized yet another night training technique was a natural fail: neither kid felt uncomfortable or upset about our soggy state of affairs.

So I surrender. White flag up, pull ups on, sheets dry, beds occupied by their respective owners. Game over. My hygienic love of NOT faintly smelling of urine conquers all.