So my three year old at the Head Start is a little special. The fact that two of his rules are: "Don't lick the window!" and "Don't pee on the sink!" says it all.
It was your typical nap time: a few tears, twelve stories, four backrubs, and all thirteen children were out for the count. I had just finished taping together a few books that our "angry child" had ripped and had moved to the sink to wash my hands (kids get the weirdest things on books). Suddenly a little face popped up by the edge of the sink. It was Noah, my little trouble making machine.
I waited for him to slip by me into the kids' bathroom, or say that he had a nightmare. Instead, he kept looking straight ahead with a glazed look in his eyes. A few seconds passed, and I began to grow concerned.
"Noah? Noah, stop!"
I could hardly believe my eyes. He was peeing against the sink.
I jumped back, not eager to get my flip flops, or my toes, wet. Why, or why, hadn't I worn my sneakers that day? Baby pee I can handle. Three year old drenching pee? Not so much.
I got him to stop long enough to direct him to the toilet. After he washed his hands, still expressionless, he went back to bed.
When I brought the incident up with the lead teacher, she was incredulous. This had never happened before. Yet the puddle next to the sink was vivid proof that something crazy was going on.
When Noah woke up from his nap fifteen minutes later, we led him over to the puddle to help with clean-up. He kept asking why he was cleaning up, and what the big puddle was.
It turns out we have a sleepwalker on our hands. And not just your garden variety sleepwalker, but a walking, peeing sleepwalker.
This year is going to be fun.
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