The Urinator, Awaaaaay!

In an attempt to get involved in the coincidental theme that my two favorite bloggers, Patricia and Jacob have unintentionally initiated, I am dedicating this particular post to a phenomenon with which I have recently had to cope with on a whole new level: my son Bram's 'piemie'. (I just can't bring myself to call it by its official name yet - he's still my baby...!)

Bram has been aware of his fascinating appendage for some time now, a fact I have tried not to pay too much attention to, for fear it become an obsession before he's even anywhere near puberty. But, I realize it's a part of his body like any other, and should be explored in a healthy way - like my mother said, 'It's just as important as his nose!' (Well, perhaps it's just a bit more important.)

The discovery of his piemie and all it can do is just as interesting for me as it is for little Bram, but it doesn't make my job any easier. What is my job as Bram's mom? Essentially it's to provide food for him to eat, a place for him to sleep, a lap for him to sit on and clean diapers about every fifteen minutes. You see, Bram's piemie might be the size of a slightly overweight earthworm, but he has the peeing capacity of a drunken British football hooligan on vacation in Ibiza.

Bram can pee through anything. The force with which the pee shoots out of his piemie is something a Jedi knight would be jealous of. It doesn't matter what kind of magical mega-absorbing brand diaper I put on him, he can still manage to pee right through it, as well as several more layers, at a time. Nothing escapes the wrath of Bram's pee - his diaper, his PJs, his sleeping bag, his sheets and the protective spongey layer on top of his mattress which is meant to absorb the excess pee. Bram's pee penetrates this layer with no difficulty whatsoever and continues to leak about three inches deep into the mattress.

Now, the crazy thing is, his diaper his more often than not virtually dry even though his clothes look like he just dove into Niagra falls. How can this possibly be?! It can only mean one thing: Bram has been blessed with the super-human strength of Power Peeing. Maybe this is the reason why he still hasn't started talking yet - he's been too busy developing his peeing-power, which will undoubtedly aide him in saving the planet one day. I can just hear the cries of citizens in distress crying out,
'Is it a leaking faucet?!
Is it a hole in the roof?!
No!
It's Bram - The Urinator!'

The first thing that I am met with when I go into his bedroom in the mornings is an overwhelming aroma of boy-pee. So obviously, Bram has either peeed through everything again, or a bum has been living undetected under Bram's crib for the past month. Well, there ain't no bum under there. Bram is just so happy to see me, he starts jumping up and down in a puddle of his own piddle. The only thing he wants is for me to pick him up so we can have a big morning cuddle, but his entire body is soaked with slightly luke-warm pee. Naturally, my maternal instincts outweigh my desire to remain pee-free, so we cuddle. As you've probably guessed by now, Bram isn't the kind of man who does things half-heartedly, including cuddling. I get the biggest squeezes in the mornings from Bram, which is the best, but they do tend to make his pee to leak through my bathrobe and onto my PJs as well! Like I have nothing better to do than run yet another load of wash! I mean, I need to watch Columbo re-runs and pick the balls of my sweater, for starters!

This summer, we plan to start Bram's potty-training. I pray to the Mother God (that's the Big Man's assistant, who was hired specifically to watch over moms in particular) that Bram's Power-Pee won't destroy us all in the process. To be honest, I'm a little concerned for my safety and the preservation of my house - what if he pees a hole in the wall or something? I've never potty-trained someone with super-human powers before. I'd better go join that 'parents of super-human power-peers' support-group on Facebook. Any tips from people with super-human power themselves are more than welcome!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have laundry to do.