I have switched up the girls’ bedtime routine a little bit. Bun wasn’t dropping off right away in any case, and it saves me one up-and-down the stairs trip.
I take them together, now, after our nighttime treat and video. We all pile on my glider for a book (lately it’s been “On the Day You Were Born”, which is beautifully written and illustrated — we’ve read it so many times that I almost don’t cry when we reach the end — oops, off topic here…), then I send Monkey to wait in her room while I sing Bun a lullaby and lay her in her crib.
Then Monkey and I brush our teeth, she goes potty, and I sing two lullabies to her before lots of hugs and kisses for the night.
Last night, Monkey decided to go potty without me, which is not unusual.
What was unusual was the way she was standing in front of the potty with her legs and her, ahem, pudenda pressed up against the bowl.
“What are you doing?” I asked. My bewilderment was already giving away to suspicion that I knew exactly what she was attempting to do.
“I’m standing up to pee,” she replied.
“Honey, you can’t stand up to pee. Girls have to sit down.”
I got her sitting on the potty.
“Do you sit down every time, Mommy?”
“Yes, I do. Girls have to sit down.”
Pause. I knew it was coming:
“Daddy doesn’t sit down every time.”
“No, honey.” It was my turn to pause. How much do I explain now?
“See, honey, daddy has a penis. That’s why he can stand up and pee.”
That seemed to be the end of the conversation. But I’m sure we’ll have many more like it in the years to come.
What would you/do you/did you tell your daughter?
I am 20 away from 100 things about me. I have definitely hit a block, not only in terms of what else there could be to tell you, but also in terms of time. Way, way short on time. Stress, though? Got that.