Right.

So we get in the door from our free preschool/playgroup and I'm trying to get Adelle to take off her shoes and coat, which are rain soaked, and asking her to feed the dog, which is her "chore," as he is circling under our feet, when she announces, "I pooped in my panties!" She really means peed. She really, really means she peed in her panties again since she had already done that once during the preschool/playgroup where I realized I had forgotten to bring extra pants. Extra panties - yes! Extra pants... nope. Good thing my friend Bonnie had a pair in her car and saved me from dragging my pants-less kid across the public place. But this is beside the point. There is a growing puddle underneath my half dressed kid - because she immediately strips when she pees- which the dog has now stepped in and is tracking excitedly to his food bowl. Adelle finds wetting herself disconcerting and begins to whine and cry - understandable but avoidable, Adelle! - it's her responsibility to clean up these kind of messes (part of the potty training that has really helped her) and so I ask her to get a towel and go for the disinfectant myself while noting a particularly long and strong contraction. Adelle slips, whacks herself against the coffee table and nearly falls in the pee and begins wailing uncontrollably. I make my best effort at contorting my body to get on the floor with her and we are rejoined by the dog, who is still hungry, and I try to comfort us all. Next to the puddle of pee. While the contraction continues.

The most disconcerting thing about this little anecdote is that this kind of chaos is nothing compared to what I'll get to enjoy when we throw in a newborn. Add in there some kind of diaper explosion or spit up volcano and multiply the screaming by two kinds instead of one. Can I do this?

I guess we'll find out!