5+am on work days. I shake my head hard and yell “NO!” in my mind when the alarm clock rings. I hug my bolster tightly as I fight off the inevitable moment of truth. Let me stay on the bridge between sleep and reality just a while more, 5 minutes to be exact, and I will promise to wake up.
As I lie down once more, as one with my beloved bolster, I feel footsteps and then a light tap on my thigh. My heart sinks. As I stir to respond to the tap, I hear those groan-inducing, spine-chilling dreaded words “MaMa, my bed is wet. It was an accident…”
NOOOO… Please don’t do this to me. Again. Which kid is it this time?
The bed-wetting episodes have stopped for almost a year, since both the kids have completed their toilet training. We have almost forgotten the horrors of wet pyjamas and changing bedsheets hurriedly while still trying to make it out of the house in time.
For the past week though, the bed wetting bug has infected first Matthew, and then Megan again. And it is one of those things that we could not scold nor punish the kids for. They are already very apologetic about it, and they never do it on purpose anyway. So the Man and I can only groan and sigh, tell the kids please remember to wake up the next time, and hurry to change bedsheets and help the kids wash up.
But it is one of those things that throw order out of the window. Bedsheets and mattress protectors need to be washed within the same day. Pyjamas need to be changed and the soiled ones washed. The extra, unplanned-for washings throw my schedule for laundry days and types into disarray. There is still planning to do with a seemingly trivial task like laundry washing for me. With limited time at night after work, 4 hanging poles and a drying rack, I need to take into account the weather (how long the laundry takes to dry indoors), the amount of space I have, the washing cycles (so I can work out the number of washes I can do in a night) etc. Bed-wetting and my laundry? Absolutely not a match! Couple this with the fast-approaching Chinese New Year washings of new towels, bedsheets and clothes, my stress levels are slightly heightened.
But I think this is also life’s way of telling me to lighten up a little, for there is no way I can avoid surprises and uncertainty, however much I try. And I still need to count my blessings daily, no matter how much the trivials of a normal life weigh me down, for I still have so much to be thankful for.
When will the time come for me to stop worrying about the dreaded words though? I really hope it will be sooner than later…