I love coming...

home and noticing that the baby has on different clothes then the clothes she dressed in in the morning.

“Mommy, I pee peed in your room,” she informed me, when I asked her about the wardrobe change.

Happy, happy, joy, joy. I let it go and went about our new nightly routine.

At the unusually early hour of 9:15, I send everyone off to bed.

“Mommy, the bed is wet,” Rowan yelled out.

What? The bed is wet? I walked into the room as the four-year-old climbed back on the bed to point out the wet spot. Sure enough the spot she shows me is wet. I turned to look at Layla who was standing next to me.

“Did you pee in the bed?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Why?”

“I like peeing on myself,” she answered.

“You do not like to pee on yourself. You’re not going to go on a walk,” I informed her.

“No, no! I wanna go on a walk, Mommy,” she cried.

“You have to act like a big girl. Big girls don’t pee pee on themselves.”

“I not going to pee on myself anymore, Mommy.”

Let’s pray not. Based on where the bed was wet, I assume her aunt put her down for a nap and didn’t no a sleeping Layla needs a pull-up or diaper. So now the bed was wet, including the comforter. The washer and dryer have been disconnected to make room for their new home. There were no spare mattress covers and who knew where the spare sheets and blankets were.

I threw a towel over the wet spot and decided tonight everyone would lay crossways on the bed and Jory could sleep in his sleeping bag on the floor. I guessed the up part was that only two other people would be sleeping with me.