We’ve been fairly lucky so far with Babisodes. *knocks on wood*

As far as potty training goes, Dadisodes and I have nothing to complain about.  Sure there were weeks when I thought for sure she would be a college Freshman wearing Depends, and I may have bribed her with enough treats to fill a piñata.  But she poop-trained at 18-months and pee-trained well before 3 years.   In the grand scheme of things, we feel rather fortunate it’s all over.

WAIT! Before you run screaming, this post is not all about excrement.   Promise.

Anyhow, Babisodes has always been able to hold her own at night. Literally. In her 3-years of life, she never wet her bed.  Well, minus a few leaks here and there as a baby, when mommy was too incoherent from exhaustion to change a diaper.  So let me rephrase that.  Since she became a toddler, she has been able to hold her bladder through the night…

…until last week.

I mean, it happens, right?  No big deal. It was an accident. However, for her, it was HUGE. I mean catastrophic.  I’m talking loud, blood curdling cries that shook the foundation of our house.

She was already asleep for an hour when it happened.  So I’m guessing the sensation of lying in warm, urine-soaked pants was quite the rude awakening.  But I believe the most upsetting aspect of the scenario for her was getting her precious “blankie” soiled.  Yes, the coveted McNasty blankie she’s been toting around everywhere for 3 years.

Have you met McNasty?  Here, allow me to introduce you…

It was soft and pink.  Now it’s frayed and matted, like a fresh batch of cotton candy that fell into a pile of dirt.  But trust me, it’s been washed.  Over and over and over and over again.

I had a feeling this day would come.  As a mother I recognized early on the importance of having a back-up plan in case the cherished pink, dirt sponge was ever misplaced.  So I bought another one, an identical one that she flatly refused a year ago because it had not colonized enough bacteria yet.

But through her frantic tears, I tried offering it again, a desperate plea for her to go back to sleep rather than waiting through a wash/dry cycle.

Me: Here honey, look!

Babisodes: *sniff, sniff, sniff*  Whaz THIS, mommy? *holds pink blanket in the air with a furrowed brow*

Me: Uh, it’s a blankie, just like your other one.  But this one is softer, see? *holds to her cheek*

Babisodes: Ooooh…*rubs face full of tears and snot into blanket* Okay mommy. Nite nite.

Tomorrow…. can I haf the other blanket, too? I want bofth.

*Damn*

*Update!
McNasty and her counterpart have seemingly multiplied. Thanks to several gift packages received in the mail, Babisodes no longer has a bed.  Rather more like a “blanket-top bed.”

Yea, that would be five blankets.  F_I_V_E.  It’s like a bottle of Pepto Bismol exploded in her bed.  Actually, they never look that neat and folded. Here is what they’re really utilized for…

Yea, five blankets and NONE of them are actually allowed to lie on top of her.  She hates having anything cover her.

Note to any family possibly lurking on this blog (because I have a feeling you are). PLEASE stop sending blankets!  Any package received on our doorstep that may possibly contain a blanket, or blanket-like item will be immediately forwarded to the nearest charity location.

Thank you.

As far as potty training goes, Dadisodes and I have nothing to complain about.  Sure there were a few weeks when I thought for sure she would be a college Freshman wearing Depends, and I may have bribed her with enough treats to fill a piñata.  But she poop-trained at 18-months and pee-trained well before 3 years.   In the grand scheme of things, we feel rather fortunate it’s all over.

WAIT! Before you run screaming, this post is not all about excrement.   Promise.

Anyhow, Babisodes has always been able to hold her own at night. Literally. In her 3-years of life, she never wet her bed.  Well, minus a few leaks here and there as a baby, when mommy was too incoherent from exhaustion to change a diaper.  So let me rephrase that.  Since she became a toddler, she has been able to hold her bladder through the night…

…until last week.

I mean, it happens, right?  No big deal. It was an accident. However, for her, it was HUGE. I mean catastrophic.  I’m talking loud, blood curdling cries that shook the foundation of our house.

She was already asleep for an hour when it happened.  So I’m guessing the sensation of lying in warm, urine-soaked pants was quite a rude awakening.  But I believe the most upsetting aspect of the scenario for her was getting her precious “blankie” soiled.  Yes, the coveted McNasty blankie she’s been toting around everywhere for 3 years.

Have you met McNasty?  Here, allow me to introduce you…

It was soft and pink.  Now it’s frayed and matted, like a fresh batch of cotton candy that fell into a pile of dirt.  But trust me, it’s been washed.  Over and over and over and over again. It looks so disgusting it’s not  even allowed out of the house anymore.

I had a feeling this day would come.  As a mother I recognized early on the importance of having a back-up plan in case the cherished pink, dirt sponge was ever misplaced.  So I bought another one, an identical one that she flatly refused a year ago because it had not colonized enough bacteria yet.

But through her frantic tears last week, I tried offering it again, a desperate plea for her to go back to sleep rather than waiting through a wash/dry cycle.

Me: Here honey, look!

Babisodes: *sniff, sniff, sniff*  Whaz THIS, mommy? *holds pink blanket in the air with a furrowed brow*

Me: Uh, it’s a blankie, just like your other one.  But this one is softer, see? *holds to her cheek*

Babisodes:  Ooooh…*rubs face full of tears and snot into blanket* Okay mommy. Nite nite.

Tomorrow…. can I haf the other blanket, too? I want bofth.

*Damn*