JellyBean is at that stage of potty-training where she cannot be relied upon to use the potty, but she dislikes wearing a pull-up.
The other night I was getting ready for bed when I heard her crying. Through her door, it sounded like she said “threw up,” so I went in to check on her. She was calling, “Wanna fresh pull-up!” She had taken off her (perfectly dry) pull-up early in the evening, fallen asleep, and peed on her bed.
I put her pull-up back on and pulled her out of bed to change the sheets. She hadn’t wet much, just the sheet and - gasp! oh no! - Special Blanket.
JellyBean does not have a binkie or a wubbie or a blankie. She has always tried carefully to pronounce everything the way grown-ups do. When she was 11-months-old she called a sippy cup of water “hauf.” I thought it was so cute that I started asking her if she wanted “hauf.” She stopped immediately and called it “water” ever after. She has had a few adorable mispronunciations (ladybug was waaaaay-be-gud and teddy bear was, for inexplicable reasons, Thibodaux), but pet names for objects are beneath her dignity. The blue and yellow baby quilt my sister made for her, which she has slept with since she was tiny, she has always called Special Blanket.
It was one-o-clock at night and Special Blanket was wet with urine. I changed her sheets, gave her a substitute blanket, and explained why Special Blanket had to be washed. Then I closed the door.
I expected crying. Sometimes when I put her to bed, she cries about it for a little while, and then falls asleep. She has energy to work off, and she lets me know if she is in any real distress. I am used to the variety of her cries.
I did not expect roaring. It sounded like a tornado, a blizzard, some phenomenal act of God happening in our upstairs. “OOOOOOHHHH - AAHHHHH - WAAAAHHHH - SPEEEECIAL BLAAAAANKEEEET!”
I thought I could wait till morning to wash it. I waited, hoping she would calm down. She did stop crying, but she would not sleep without Special Blanket. Instead she stayed awake shouting and playing and screaming. Az the Disgruntled went to talk to her. It turned to crying again. “WAAAAAHHHH - AAAAAAAHHHHH - MAAAAAAAAAA - SPEEEECIAL BLAAAANKEEET!!!”
Az the Loving, Az the Wonderful, Az the Letting His Wife Sleep, washed and dried Special Blanket and brought it to JellyBean, who had drifted into a grudging sleep. He brought it to her warm and clean, and said “Here’s Special Blanket.” She didn’t say a word or open her eyes, just held her arms up until he covered her.
And I slept until Az woke me in the morning with a fresh cup of coffee on the nightstand.
I guess I have my own Special Blanket.
Wow Az the Devoted Dad, that is impressive. Our youngest had an essential soft owl named Wol (her name for him was Awol) and he always was AWOL at bedtime, so two adults often spent half an hour every evening searching for Awol in whatever new roosting spot he’d discovered.
WOW - he’s a keeper!
Az, the Wonder Dad.
That is really worth a tribute. Wow.
Yep, hang on to him.
BTW, here in Costa Rica a person with whom one sleeps can be referred to as one’s “blanket with ears” - nice, really, considering all the other ways that turn of phrase could have gone.
Jeesh! Please tell me that he never changes the tp roll or SOMETHING!
Um, did that require any special training? Or did he come like that?
Az the Devoted Dad indeed. And Bonus Points Husband too.
Sweet.
Dang, misty-eyed AGAIN!