Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Same as Mama

Pia started school in August at Ohio Valley Voices, the same school Gianna attended from age 3 to age 6. I've written previously of my work cultivating the image of being the laid back parent, and I am continuing this work as you shall see.

If you've had the fortune of birthing a child, you know that for a little while after the blessed event occurs, toilet paper can be a little....abrasive. Luckily, God invented the peri-bottle and your hospital will gift you one for just this need. It is the same with home birth; the box of sterile supplies you order for your midwife to use always includes the peri-bottle and if you're like me, you save it.

You put it in the large bin that contains your birthing things and send it to be stored at the neutral ground of your mother's house because your sister, with whom you share the birth items collection, doesn't need the birth bin just yet, and you hopefully won't need it for awhile because you just did that and are taking a little break. We all know that stating "Oh, I don't need this maternity shirt/baby swing/birth kit right now" is a good way to make sure you get a positive home pregnancy test, thus the importance of a neutral storage ground. Anyways, eventually your birth bin contains quite the collection of peri-bottles.

After Dominic was born, I saw the dearth of peri-bottles and conveniently placed one in each bathroom so that I would never be without. Gianna was about two and half years old at the time and still very much in the habit of joining me in the potty. She had set up her little potty right across from the big one so that we might have the joy of using the facilities face to face. The first time she saw me use the peri bottle, her eyes lit up and she sprinted from the bathroom, returning with the other peri-bottle. She handed it to me and signed, NEED WATER.

Like a good, laid-back, mom, I filled it up and handed it to her. I watched as she settled on to her little potty, peed, and then used her peri-bottle to clean up. She looked up at me with a grin and signed, "SAME! SAME AS MAMA!"

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when Pia, the current two year old, observed the usage of a panty liner one evening. She insisted that I put one in her nighttime pull-up, so like the laid-back mom I strive to be, I did. She was so happy. Triumphant, even.

"Same! Same as mama!" She announced. I put her to bed and when she woke up the next morning her pull-up was still dry, so after I took her potty I put it back on her and rushed out the door because we were on the verge of being late to school and I am lazy and plus, reduce reuse recycle.

It wasn't until I was taking her potty during drop-off that I remembered the panty liner, still stuck to her pull-up. I sat on the floor of her school bathroom and looked at it, considering my options. I could try to rip it out but I'd risk tearing the pull-up and needing a full wardrobe change or worse, she'd see me remove it and put up a fight. Or I could just leave it there. So that's what I did. I left the panty liner stuck in her pull up and I didn't even alert the school staff to its presence. I wonder what they thought. Probably they thought about how we are their favorite family. Let's go with that.

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