I recently dropped Summer off at this class for 2 and 3 year-olds. I am about to leave for some one-on-one time with the NY Post when a little girl (whom I know) tells the teacher she has to pee. I hear this and offer to take her to the bathroom so the teacher can continue the class.
Once we are in the bathroom, I am really patting myself on the back for being such a caring adult who would help a child in need, when the little girl suddenly pees on her underwear. Oh damn it.
As you may know, this can happen when a child, who is potty training, isn’t quite situated properly on the toilet. So now, instead of looking like the mom hero, I look like some idiot who can’t take a toddler to the bathroom. So I clean her up and we return to class. I email her mom with an update and then I’m off to read the gossip on Page Six.
Except now a little boy has to go the bathroom. What is up with these kids? Obviously, way too hydrated. Now I don’t know this boy Alex but I offer to take him to the bathroom too. I’m telling you that my altruism knows no bounds. I need a do-over anyway in the surrogate motherhood department.
So we bound off to the Ladies’ room and that’s when I realize that I have no idea how a little boy pees. Should I text a friend? Wing it? Ask him?
“Do you pee sitting down?” I ask this 3 year-old.
He nods his head yes. Excellent. I thought so.
So I put him on the toilet and I may not have a masters degree in aerodynamics but I’m telling you it immediately becomes clear there is no way this kid’s pee is going to actually go in the bowl. I’m perplexed. How the heck does this work exactly?!
“Maybe you pee standing up. Do you pee standing up?” I ask.
Again, he nods his head yes.
So I stand him in front of the toilet, assess the situation and this too just does not look right.
Now I’m sort of panicked. I don’t want him to have an accident. I don’t want to be covered in pee. I don’t want him to be covered in pee. I’m desperate.
“How exactly do you pee?” I ask, realizing this might be the dumbest question anyone has ever asked a 3 year-old.
“I want to wash my hands,” he responds (this kid is obviously sensing he is not with a professional).
“Perfect. Let’s do that and your nanny can help you go to the bathroom after class.” He is wearing a pull-up after all so an accident won’t be catastrophic.
So we wash hands and I march him back to class and get him into his seat. And then I dash out of the room before any more kids can request my assistance. And by now, I have to go to the bathroom myself. Which is something I actually know how to do.
P.S. Of course, as soon as I get home, I email a couple friends who have boys and I get the detailed logistics about how this whole little boy peeing thing works, including the fun of how brothers can cross streams, pee on walls and hit targets. Apparently, I’ve really be missing out over here in girl world.
mama bird notes:
This year Blogher ‘10 is in a little neighborhood called New York City. Aunt Becky, Marinka, Wendi, and I (of The Mouthy Housewives and Mommy Wants Vodka) have put in for a Room of our Own on how to create a successful advice site.
It’s going to be funny, entertaining, and we are sure to embarrass ourselves but we need your help to make it happen. Just click here, log on to BlogHer and then click “I would attend this session” (it’s just above the title: Dear Abby 2.0). After you click it it will miraculously say “I would not attend this session.” This means that your vote for the session has been successfully registered. Thank you! And see you in NYC!