The Dreaded U-Bag.

Marley and Rudy had more blood drawn on Tuesday. And when their pediatric endocrinologist checks their numbers, she likes to see what's going on in their pee, too. Thankfully, a urine sample is easy to get from a potty professional like Bean. Unfortunately, Rudy still needs to use a U-Bag, which is basically a small plastic bag with a inch-wide rim of adhesive plastic surrounding its opening. As you might imagine, this bag is a lot easier to stick on a baby or toddler boy. With girls, the bag is more difficult to apply, and there's the risk of leaking and dribbling and, subsequently, loss of the precious urine sample.

When Marley was around one, I was still collecting her pee at her endocrinologist visits. The nurses helped me stick on the U-Bags, we'd put her diapers back on, loosely, and then Bean and I hung out in the waiting room. I'd force sippy cups of milk and water on her, and I'd check in her diaper every five to ten minutes to make sure that no pee was lost to the suddenly too-absorbent Pampers. Sometimes this would add an extra hour to an already draining appointment. And I remember one visit, when Marley's loose and stretched out diaper slid to her ankles while she was standing at one of those move-the-beads-along-the-wires-table next to a little boy, who looked at me and said, "Gross." Punk kid. I remember being exhausted and embarrassed and angry.

Eventually, I started taking home my own U-Bags and collection cups, sticking them on Marley the mornings we were heading in for blood draws, and letting her play and romp around the house with a plastic bag hanging from her bum: no diaper, no judgement. Sometimes she'd have the thing on for over an hour, but eventually, I always got the sample, and I'd always feel a little triumphant for having it taken care of ahead of time when we got to the lab. Marley was never excited about wearing a U-Bag, of course, but her sister, Toot? That kid hates it.

Tuesday morning, I came up from the basement with my cups and a U-Bag, still in its slim, sterile wrapping. Rudy recognized the package immediately and begin backing away from me with tears in her eyes. Then she started crying and eventually yelling, "I doe wanna do it! No [blabber blabber blubber blubber] boo-boo! Nooooo!"

The last time I brought the girls in for bloodwork, I didn't bother getting a urine sample for Toot. Because the time before that, we had planned to get bloodwork done on the same day that they were both getting ultrasounds of their kidneys to check on the progress of (Marley) and the potential development of (Rudy) calcium deposits in their kidneys, or nephrocalcinosis. As part of this screening, the technician checks their bladders to be sure that they empty completely. This means a bathroom break in the middle of the ultrasound, and with two little kids, and a long time in the waiting room before we even got into the ultrasound room, and because Marley went first, by the time we got to Rudy that day, she was a total mess and nearly had to be restrained. Anyhow, as soon as I learned that Toot's bladder was full I immediately stuck on the U-Bag. And then by the time we finished seeing the pediatric nephrologist over an hour later, Toot still hadn't gone. The poor kid was holding it, and only peed after I admitted defeat and put her diaper back on.

What I'm saying is, Toot hates that U-Bag, and is capable of holding in her pee, and believe it: potty training will start in earnest when it's warmer out and there aren't so many layers of clothing, and, more specifically, back ends of onesies hanging into the potty or in the line of fire. And what happened on Tuesday morning was, Rudy wore that U-Bag for over two hours, from the moment she woke up, through one sippy of chocolate milk and two more of regular milk, and it was only when I called her to me with exasperation so that I could take it off and get us in the car, with only Marley's sample ready to go, that I saw Rudy had peed after all! [Triumphant Trumpet Blast!]

This is admittedly a ridiculously involved story about a tablespoon and a-half of urine, but that pee was my focus and goal on Tuesday morning. Welcome to my silly little world. And eventually, we got to our favorite pediatric phlebotomist, whom I really love. She's all, "Hey girls! Hey Rude!" when she sees us. And Beanie now sits in the chair all by herself, holds out her arm for the tourniquet and doesn't cry, doesn't whimper, and this time didn't even flinch when the needle went in.

To celebrate, and because Marley had been probably on five different occasions already by the time she was Rudy's age, we went to a nearby paint-your-own-pottery place before we headed home for lunch. And I'm leaving out the, no kidding, dozen or so tantrums and arguments that also happened in that five-hour period, but there are plenty of those to document another time. It's that bit o'pee, and it's sweet Rudy's understandable hatred of the U-Bag that deserve mention today. I should also add, I did try chanting Rudy's name while the U-Bag was on. She wasn't having it.