I Was Actually Sleeping in Pee.

There are moments in motherhood where your brain does Olympic-level gymnastics to protect your sanity.

This was one of them.

It was around 5:30 a.m. when I woke up feeling… damp.

Not alarmingly damp.

Not call-a-professional damp.

Just enough damp to think, Wow. These night sweats are really escalating. Is this perimenopause? Is this my life now?

I lay there for a second, bargaining with the universe.

Maybe I slept too hot.

Maybe it’s hormones.

Maybe this is what happens when you write a menopause book and anger the estrogen gods.

Then Harper whispered from the darkness:

“Mommy… I need new pants.”

And suddenly the pieces clicked together like a crime scene reconstruction.

Reader, I was not sweating.

I was snuggling in urine.

The Chaos Timeline (Because Of Course There Is One)

• Realization

• Internal scream

• Swift evacuation to the shower

• Stripping sheets like we’re racing pit crew

• Questioning every life choice that led me here

An hour later, the house was quiet again.

Harper was clean.

The bed was remade.

I was human-adjacent.

And there I stood, fresh pajamas, damp hair, thinking about how quickly I’d blamed my own body before considering the obvious:

Children are unpredictable. And moist.

The Emotional Whiplash of Motherhood

What got me wasn’t the pee.

Pee happens.

It was how fast I turned on myself.

How easily I assumed my body was failing before realizing I was simply parenting at dawn. Again.

This is the invisible part of motherhood no one warns you about:

The constant recalculating.

The mental load.

The way we absorb chaos quietly and keep going.

Even when it’s 5:30 a.m.

Even when it’s warm for all the wrong reasons.

Tuesdays Unhinged Survival Tip 

Before you spiral, check for pee.

Seriously.

When something feels off…emotionally, physically, existentially, pause before blaming your hormones, your discipline, or your worth as a human.

Ask yourself:

• Is a child involved?

• Is it early?

• Is it possibly bodily fluid related?

Nine times out of ten, the answer will save you a meltdown.

And if it is menopause?

Well. At least you ruled out urine first.

Motherhood is messy.

Sometimes literally.

But if we’re going to wake up soaked, exhausted, and confused…

we might as well laugh, write it down, and call it content.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m washing sheets again.

Because of course I am.