Before Dawn

I woke up when the bedroom door opened. It wasn't that it opened loudly or that I was sleeping lightly. I've just learned to move quickly when the preschooler comes in to wake me up. If I hustle her out of there quickly she might not wake up her father, who's working swing shift right now and needs his rest in the mornings.

So I was already up and moving when I heard her say, "Mommy, panties are not for naptime!"

I waved her out of the bedroom with an rapid flutter of my hand in the direction of the door as I slipped on my robe, then rushed to follow her out. If I stayed closed enough to her I could keep her from doubling back into the room and heading for Daddy.

If you turn the doorknob before you close the bedroom door, you can slowly release the knob and latch the door after pulling it shut, without making too much noise. After so many months of shifting sleeping patterns, it's an automatic action. I closed the door quietly and at the same time looked in the direction of the girls' bedroom door. Sure enough, I could see a little head poking up from behind the dresser.

Darn. It would have been nice if the toddler hadn't woken up yet.

I lifted her out of her crib and we all walked into the living room together as I tried to remember the dream I'd been having when the preschooler woke up. Something about six idols and six tribal ... somethings ... which held the power of the idols and having to try to get the luck back for my tribe. Hmm, inspiration for a story, there.

"Mommy, panties are not for naps, pullups are for naps!" It was the preschooler again, sounding rather urgent and annoyed, as if I'd done something wrong.

The toddler was fussing. "That's right, honey, pullups are for naps," I said to the preschooler, then asked the toddler, "Want a banana?"

Bananas were an excellent suggestion. The toddler nodded her head vigorously as she let me put her down so that I could peel one for her. I peeled a second one for the preschooler, but she refused it.

"No! Mommeeee!" She was whining now, no longer making the statement as cheerfully and matter of factly as she had in my bedroom. "Panties are not for naps."

I forced my eyes to focus, something I'd been able to avoid doing until then, and really looked at her, a dreadful suspicion growing.

"Did you wear panties last night?" Sure enough, as I looked closer I could see she didn't have a stitch on.

She put her fingers in mouth and looked down at the ground as she nodded. "Yes."

"Did you take off your pullups and put on panties last night?"

"Yes."

Poor little thing. She must have woken up soaking wet. I could remember waking up like that when I was little.

"Is your bed all wet?"

"Yes. Panties are not for naps," she said again.

So now I have a couple of extra loads of laundry to take care of. Thank goodness for washing machines and plastic mattress covers. And that she didn't have a bowel movement.