My bladder is smaller than the average bear’s. And not just because I’m pregnant. It’s the way I’ve always been. I’m the last person you want riding shotgun on a road trip. Unless, of course, you enjoy stopping every 1.5 hours. Poor Brian. He’s a very patient man.
So for this reason, I’ve spent most of the past 3 years dehydrated. Purposefully not drinking anything, so that when I’m out with the boys, I don’t have to drag the three of them with me to the bathroom.
And now that I’m pregnant, my bladder has become the bane of my existence. No longer can I be dehydrated (causes contractions or something). And Baby 4 dances on my bladder, so I have to pee constantly.
Should be no big deal, right? The boys are also using the potty, so they should understand when mommy has to go.
Yeah right. Here are my options for going with the boys in tow.
Option #1: Clown Car, wherein all 4 of us cram into one stall. As I pee, Charlie does his best to stuff toilet paper around my butt down into the toilet. Cooper gets down on the fecal floor and tries to crawl out, and (I am cringing as I write this) Zach likes to open and shut the metal box on the stall wall (you know the one I am talking about. Holy disgusting). And all this is happening as I am hovering over the seat, yelling at them to STOP and swatting hands. Then I have to spend the next 10 minutes scrubbing them down at the sink. (Hard to believe I used to be one of those folks who only used her elbows to open the bathroom stalls).
Option #2: The Freeze Game. Once, at the library, I locked myself into the stall and demanded the three of them “stand frozen in front of this door; do not move an inch; do not touch anything; do not lick anything.” The second I pulled down my pants and squatted, I heard giggles, then the main bathroom door open and shut. And just like that, 2 of them had escaped back into the library. I ran out of the bathroom, pants barely pulled up, Cooper in one hand, and the boys’ urine splattered foldable potty seat in the other (yes, I carry one of these wherever I go, and no, I was not using it, but I had it out because the boys had just gone). I just ignored the stares.
Option #3: Let It All Hang Out. So now, I usually just leave the stall door open when I go, keeping an eye on my crew. That’s right. (Sorry lady at Bruegger's this afternoon). No modesty here. I left that back at the hospital 3 years ago when I was on a bedpan for 4 weeks. Compared to having your husband changing that thing… this ain’t nothin’.
So, in the course of 3 1/2 years, I have gone from writing legal briefs and developing trial strategies to strategically planning how to use a public bathroom stall in the company of my three lovely children. Guess I’ll need new strategy when Baby 4 arrives. Or maybe then I’ll just go back to being dehydrated.