Trajectory Issues

My uncle Doug has never let me live it down. "When you were just a baby" he'd say, "I went to change one of your diapers and you pissed right in my face!" I always wondered if I was the only baby boy who did things like that, or if it was a common occurrence. Fast forward 31 years or so, and though I've heard the stories of other parents getting peed on by their young boys, I've still never experienced it first hand. Oddly, when I learned last week that we were expecting a boy, one of the first things I thought of was whether my peeing in Doug's face was finally going to come full circle. I envisioned changing my son's diaper in a sleep-deprived haze and being startled alert by a stream of his pee hitting me right in the face. I figured I'd just have to wait and see if that would be my fate, or if I'd be a shrewd daddy and figure out a changing method that limited my exposure, so to speak.

Well, the last two days provided me with an entirely new pee-related issue.

My basic understanding of the female anatomy paints a vaguely fuzzy picture of the way urine is "directed" to the potty. This, obviously, is not an issue I face concerning little boys. Ready, aim, fire. Yesterday, however, Lily encountered what I'd like to refer to as a little trajectory issue. Before her bath, she sat down to pee and I was in what has always been a relatively safe spot in these instances . . directly in front of her, kneeling on the floor. Seconds later I was being sprayed with an unwieldy stream of urine, traveling at approximately a 30 degree angle upward from horizontal . . clearly an issue I was ill-prepared to deal with. I just sat and watched as the little bugger peed all over me, and then I laughed hysterically with her as I wiped the wayward pee off of my shorts. No cause for alarm really, just a funny story.

Then, a disturbing pattern began to develop. This morning, in her first trip to the potty, we nearly had a repeat of the same events. This time, however, the damage was contained to the toilet seat and a few small drops on the floor. My clothes were spared, and again we laughed it off. Clearly though, I needed to consult some resources. When I asked Mandi what I should do, she said "Just tell her to aim it down!" Which brings us back to the crux of the issue . . how do you teach little girls to aim? Is it even possible? I can only hope that this little trajectory issue works itself out naturally, as I feel I am ill-equipped to solve it.

This is my life . .

When I worked outside the home, I used to get invited to quarterly meetings, seminars, information sessions, and awards ceremonies. Now, these are the only invitations I receive with any regularity. Welcome to the spectacular life of the stay-at-home dad.


To their credit, it was a really well put together fashion show. They had a little runway on the floor angled right toward the door (past which I was not allowed). It was made of a "Dora The Explorer" exercise mat and a knitted blanket. When I arrived for the show Avery had Lily in her green room, which was actually just her closet. As any good event coordinator would, however, she'd moved a chair in there to ensure the star's comfort, and her entire dress-up wardrobe was laying conveniently nearby (on the floor, of course). She came out first in her new Snow White getup, which she accessorized with some fancy new purple high-heels. Smashing I tell you. After excusing myself to run downstairs and check on dinner, I came back to outfit number two, which was the latest and greatest from the Ariel collection. A cotton tank paired beautifully with a fancy polyester skirt, emblazoned with beautiful pictures of Ariel and all her underwater friends. It really was smashing.

Unfortunately, the show ended there because dinner was ready and I just couldn't take any more. Perhaps this is a sign of things to come for me though . . maybe my destiny is to go into fashion writing and tour the toddler circuit. We can only hope.