bed-wetting and enjoying parenthood.

Last night, Maggie wet the bed. (And before you stop reading because I'm blogging about my daughter's bathroom habits, hang with me!) Tim put her down for bed, I started to work on editing a wedding, and about thirty minutes later she called out to me because she had wet the bed.

This type of thing does not make me angry. I realize that it's a part of parenthood, and I quickly ran into her room (mostly so that her yelling wouldn't wake up Caleb) and began to clean up the mess. I wasn't upset, but my mind was elsewhere. I had editing to do. That was my work time. And so, I went through the motions... a quick kiss, a "that's ok, honey... no big deal", a fast change of the sheets, and a very intentional and efficient clean-up routine began. All the while, though, Maggie was trying to engage me in conversation.

"Mommy, can you clean my legs?! I think they're wet!"
Sure sweetheart. They're all dry.
"Do you think I'll do that again?"
Nope. I'm sure you'll go right back to sleep.
"Will you read me a book?"
Honey, it's really late. You need to go to sleep.
"Can you clean my back too? I think it's wet."
Ok... all clean.
"Oh wait! It wasn't wet!"

And then the giggling began. The I'm-kind-of-tired-and-my-mom-is-in-my-room-past-my-bedtime kind of giggling. And suddenly, I saw her. Like really saw her, as if I had been in a fog and someone clapped their hands in front of my face. She was smiling so wide, and I could see the adorable gap between her front teeth. (Tim and I like to think that she she has a smile like Michael Strahan.) And she just looked so sweet... and silly... and dear. And it occurred to me that she's not going to wet the bed forever. And at some point, she won't want me to lay with her at night. And I'm not promised a single day with my kids... not one.

So, I scooped her up and gave her a million kisses... and then I read her a book.