Pages

Friday, January 13, 2012

A Wee Voice

I first wrote this post some 4 years ago, but found myself giggling over it tonight :)

A friend once admitted that since becoming a parent, she has found herself saying extraordinary things, like “Please keep your bottom to yourself” and “No, I don’t want to smell your fart.”

I thought fondly of this friend the other day when I found myself pretending to be my daughter’s urine.

Recently, Little Sister (almost 3) suddenly got possessive about her pee. After going at bath time, she would then hold it all night, through the next day’s morning routine, and sometimes even until after we’d arrived at daycare--some 14 hours after she’d last relieved herself. She must have needed to go (surely??) but she valiantly resisted doing the deed. She would hold out to the very limits of her strong will, not to mention her bladder of iron, notwithstanding gentle suggestions, heartfelt pleas, bribery, or threats.

On our recent overseas holiday, I started to get more anxious than usual about this little quirk of hers. I needed to know that the crucial moment would not come in the middle of a two-hour bus ride, or in a crowded check-in queue. I needed, somehow, to achieve pee on demand.

It was at that point that I remembered the words of Big Sister’s amazing daycare teacher: “They love it when you animate ordinary objects. If they don’t want to put on their shoes, give their shoes a sweet little voice: ‘Hey! Please put us on! We want to be on your feet! Pleeeeease!’ ”

And so it was that, in absolute desperation, last week I took a shot at being the soft, high-pitched, lovable Voice of Wee Wee.

“Hel-lo? Can anyone hear me? Little Sister, are you there? It’s your wee wee! Hey, I really want to come out for a lovely swim in the toilet. Please would you let me out? Oh, pretty please?”

I felt like a prize idiot. No one except my daughter could hear me, but that didn’t change the fact that I was a 36-year-old woman pretending to be piss trapped in a toddler’s bladder. I pondered my 18+ years of formal education and wondered where it had all gone wrong.

That was, until I heard an unfamiliar hissing noise, and realised in amazement that my cringe-making efforts had actually bloody-well worked!  Never before had the sound of another person peeing been such a balm to my frayed nerves.

I was caught off-guard, though, at Little Sister’s effusive reaction. In a giggly, high-pitched voice (how else would a front bottom speak, after all?) she replied grandly: “There you go, Wee Wee! You’re welcome!” Front Bottom went on to express the sincere wish that Wee Wee have fun swimming in the toilet, and to point out a few exciting possibilities, e.g., availability of used toilet paper for floating games, not to mention more friends potentially dropping by after Big Sister’s turn on the toilet.

I couldn’t have predicted the overwhelming popularity of The Voice of Wee Wee. As you can imagine, he/she/it did not manage to get away with a one-time performance. On the contrary, Little Sister has generously stepped up her efforts in the toilet department in order to give Wee Wee more air time.

And on top of that, it turns out that Wee Wee has a deep-voiced friend called Poo Poo.



22 comments:

  1. Ha ha, love it. What will we stoop to when we are parents? Didn't you say you used to work in law? I used to have a career too. Ah well, at least we're not making a silly voice for body fluids. Ah, I see......

    Thank you for linking up. Nice to see you again.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes, I worked as a corporate lawyer for 6 years before giving it all up in order to devote myself more fully to humiliating toddler-centric role-play...

    Thanks for commenting - I always enjoy the stories you inspire people to post on your site!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Very funny, though I have to questions Mr/Miss/Ms/Mrs Wee Wee's knowledge of anatomy: "I’m in your bottom"?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Olli, yes, Wee Wee's knowledge of basic female anatomy is lamentable. In our house, currently we tend to refer to my younger daughter's nether regions using the very vague term "your bottom". I promise I will teach specifics at some point in the near future!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hahahaha superb post my friend! You have stumbled upon a favourite trick of ours... always worked - though turned my hubbie and I into prize eejits! BTW the "smell my fart" stuff gets worse when they hit teenage years (especially with boys - so you may be spared)...

    ReplyDelete
  6. We did progress from "front bottom" to vagina, but it was picked up by our son as "hygiena"...... Amazing bladder control Little Sister has....

    ReplyDelete
  7. Not to be pedantic, but should one not teach the proper term to one's children? The front bottom is the vulva.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. maybe you are right Olli. It is good to have the "correct" names and to teach complete lack of shame in every part of our bodies.
      Personally I've found with my five (two are now adults) that it doesn't hurt to have a variety of other "family" names too. And anyway teenagers come up with a real cornucopia of terms - which, (providing they aren't derogatory or degrading to either sex) can be hilariously funny... We can proud of our bodies whilst also laughing a little at the sometimes absurd-seeming things they do? No? Sometimes not taking things too seriously doesn't hurt.

      Delete
    2. Olli, you make a good point, and perhaps I'm just being too Victorian about the whole anatomy thing. Food for thought. I really do like the "childish" words for these parts, though, as they seem affectionate and not overly technical (though am well aware that a word is a word to a small child, so this is not really a good argument!) I'm also not sure about using the word "vagina" in connection with peeing, since technically it's not accurate, but I think it would be confusing to try to explain the distinction to a 2 year old. It strikes me that this whole issue would be somewhat easier with little boys, whose anatomy is arguably less complex, not to mention easy to see!

      Delete
    3. PS: I do fully intend to teach my kids the correct names for these things - all in good time.

      PS2: La mujer libre, I am intrigued about your teenagers' colourful terms. Can you share some of them??

      Delete
  8. That is just brilliant! I would never have thought about doing that. So glad it worked. Oh and I'm the same with body parts, It's the one thing i haven't worked out yet. I think five is a good age to learn their correct names, isn't it, or six. Or maybe I'll leave it to their dad.

    ReplyDelete
  9. By the way if you've got chance pop over and link this up to my Tuesday Tea and Sympathy meme. Its open all week and comes with virtual tea!

    http://1978rebecca.blogspot.com/2012/01/tuesday-tea-and-sympathy-blue-monday.html

    ReplyDelete
  10. Here comes the girls - thanks! I'll be sure to stop by!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Did the wee voice sing any oldies (à la Jane Horrocks)?

    ReplyDelete
  12. Very funny! I'm about to embark on toilet training my two and a half year old girl. So far she's very reticent about sitting on the toilet and allowing anything to escape. I think I may try your trick!

    On the subject of things we now say - I never thought I would hear myself saying, 'put your penis away. Nobody wants to see that'.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Anonymous - sadly, the wee voice's vocal prowess is more on a par with Rolf Harris than Jane Horrocks...

    scribeswindow, I laughed out loud to read your comment. Being a mum to a little boy or boys must be excellent fun (not to mention a bit of an eye-opener!) Do try my Wee Voice trick. We have now reached the stage where Little Sister actually does the voice herself - completely redundant, of course, but hey, whatever works, right??

    ReplyDelete
  14. Hilarious! You need to record a Wee Wee / Poo Poo performance on YouTube so we can fully appreciate your skills...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. KJ, as my former boss would have said, "YHGTBFKM!" [hint: first two words are "You have"...]

      Delete
  15. Ha ha ha

    Can you hear that? That is the sound of me wetting myself laughing!! What a classic.

    You've got to laugh . . . or you will just end up crying.

    Birdie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Birdie, thanks so much for dropping by for a read.
      SOOO TRUE that you just have to laugh or you will end up sobbing!

      Delete