Peeing Outside

Big thread on parkslopeparents recently about the permissibility of children peeing in the park. There are those who said, “Uh-uh, no way, under no circumstances,” and those who said, “A-Ok, peeing outside is fun,” and those who thought it was tolerable in cases of potty training emergencies.

I fall staunchly in the last category. Do I want to watch a kid drop trou and piss in the middle of a picnic area while I’m eating a sandwich? No. But I don’t blink an eye if I catch sight of a toddler or preschooler peeing behind a bush or next to a tree off the beaten path. I’m constantly dodging piles of dog shit on the sidewalks here and I think if I have to do that, then I’m entitled to let my not-fully-potty-trained-child relieve himself near a tree rather than wet his pants when he’s somewhere far from a bathroom/

But the thread did remind me of one time, a month or two ago, when I was in my local playground with Seconda.

We’d recently come back from a trip to Tennessee, where the backyard is literally a forest, and where Sec made a habit of letting herself out through the doggie door and peeing outside, just like the doggies.

I discovered she was doing this one day because she came up to me and said, “Mommy, I did pee-pee!”

I said, “That’s great honey, did you use the potty?”

And she said, “No, I went out to the woods.”

“Oh, OK,” I said, “But where are your panties?”

“As a matter of fact,” she replied, “they are in the woods and they are all wet.”

When we came back to New York, it was difficult to break her off this pee-outside habit. So one day we were in the playground -- not in the park, but a plyground in the middle of a busy street – and I looked over and saw a pair of little girl underwear on the pavement. Then I caught sight of Seconda next to a tree in the middle of the packed playground, about to squat down and take a piss.

“Sec!” I yelled, “What are you DOING?”

“I’m peeing in the woods,” she replied.

It was an honest mistake. Could’ve happened to anyone.

Where do you stand on the pee-in-the-park debate -- sometimes, always or maybe? Have you allowed your little one some license when it comes to emergencies?

Pee in a Cup

Last week was Primo’s 5 year checkup. Pretty un-eventful – some crying, panicking about potential shots, relief at only getting a TB test, doc says he’s a giant like his Daddy and everything looks good.

Then, at the very end of the visit he told Primo to go pee in a cup.

Primo was totally floored by this.

“Why do I have to do peepee in a cup?”

The doctor explained it was to test his kidneys. Then we proceeded into the bathroom.

Now, like anyone who’s been preggo, I’m familiar with the process of peeing into a cup. Hell, I’m a damn pro.

But peeing into a cup at the OB’s office and helping your 5 year-old pee into a cup at the ped's office are two entirely different things.

To begin with, the OB’s bathroom was clean, fresh-smelling even, with a neat stack of pee cups and a sheet of white stickers on which to write your name.

The ped’s bathroom is an actual pigsty. I don’t think it’s their fault. I mean, if they test the kidneys of every kid 5 and older, just IMAGINE how much pee that equals, being collected and handled by children. In fact, the doctor warned us to put on Primo’s shoes before entering the bathroom because there was no telling how much pee might have landed on the floor from previous patients.

We walk in and spot the stack of cups over the toilet.

“Don’t use those cups Mommy,” Primo warns, pointing to a few standing rightside up on the counter, “Those already have peepee in them.”

In fact, they did. This was a little arresting to me. My OB’s office was civilized enough to collect the urine samples immediately and stash them in some special, out-of-sight sequestered urine collection spot.

There were no label stickers which meant I had to basically carve my son’s name onto the cup, using the pen as a knife.

Then the kid peed in a cup. Real rite of passage I thought. We left the pee with all the other pee and got the hell out of there.

When we arrived at home, my cousin was waiting to baby-sit so I could work.

“Alanna!” announced Primo, “If I have to do peepee, you need to get me a cup.”

“What?” she asked.

“I need a cup to do peepee in,” he explained, “The doctor said so.”

I stifled my guffaw and informed him that he should continue to deposit his pee into the toilet as per usual.

“It was just a one-time thing,” I explained.

He didn’t look too convinced though. Since he turned five, he’s been very skeptical of my expertise on matters like these. Which means one day I am going to enter my bathroom to find a sippy cup full of urine. I just know I will. .