I pee'd my pant yesterday. Thankfully I was home in my own bathroom, but it still happened! I have been trying very hard this pregnancy to stay in fashion. Now, that may seem like an oxy-moron because most of the maternity clothes that I find either scream "look at me! I am a big pregnant person wearing flowers and bunnies!" or it says "don't look at me I am fat!" Through some serious searching however, I have been able to find a few items that have become staples in my wardrobe these past few months. One of these items is a pair of chocolate draw-string pants. They are very comfy and they are very cute. I can roll them up and button them to become Capri's or I can leave them down and keep them as trousers. From the back, I don't even look pregnant wearing them! OK, that is a lie, but these kind of lies are what get me through the day people.
I have only pee'd my pants once before. I was in kindergarten and we were making mailboxes out of cartons of milk. Do you remember when milk came in gallon cardboard cartons-not the plastic gallons we have today? Those were so much better for crafts-I should write a letter to the president of milking and let him know that he is doing a disservice to little children everywhere by doing away with the craft friendly cardboard gallon cartons.
Anyway, I had to pee, but I was afraid of my teacher. I was afraid because a boy had just asked to go to the bathroom and she yelled at him because he did not go when the class went and so no, he could not go now. Now, I ask you, what kind of kindergarten teacher does this? As far as I know, 5 year olds are much like puppies. They do not have full control of their bladders yet and if you tickle them or give them lots to drink-they need to pee.
So, I decided to not let the teacher know I had to use the facilities and I went on making my mailbox. I suddenly started to cry. The girl next to me was very sympathetic and wanted to know what was wrong-I don't remember her name, but I do remember that she even hugged me. She was very kind until she realized that she was in fact standing in a warm puddle of pee... then she turned on me and yelled for the teacher bringing all the attention of the entire class upon me and my golden puddle I was standing in. It was humiliating... I don't know where this girl is now, but I bet she is a kindergarten teacher somewhere.
My dad was home recuperating from open heart surgery and my mom was off running errands with the car. We only had one vehicle back then-as most of Middle America did, and if my dad was hanging around the house recovering from surgery, I am willing to bet my mom was up at the VFW bar calming her nerves. My dad had to walk up to the school to get me and he was instructed to bring me a clean pair of underwear. He brought them in a see-through sandwich baggie! The humiliation never ends in this family let me tell you. We walked home happily together, although I still hear about the blisters he got on his feet from walking up to the school in new shoes. Sheesh!
So yesterday I was forced to have flashbacks of that fateful day when I pee'd myself again. This was not one of those little piddles that happen to a pregnant woman when she sneezes, or when she laughs too hard... not this was an all-out-can't-stop-the-flow pee. It was those DAMN draw-string pants! They did me in I tell you! My son and I had just gotten back from the grocery (another punishment to his much needed discipline from his weekly actions) and the moment I climbed out of the car I knew I needed to drop everything and run, not walk to the restroom. I get in and I start the dance of the pee bird-it is a special dance, one that demands music but alas, there is never music in a bathroom so I usually sing "I Will Survive" while I am unbuttoning and unzipping. Well... there appeared to be a knot in my draw string. With each tug and pull the knot was getting bigger and tighter until I started rummaging around in the drawer for a pair of nail scissors, nose clippers, nail file-ANYTHING! All I found was a comb so I started to try and pry the knot loose with the teeth of the comb (it should be said that this was a barbie comb, but I was desperate!) I could not even see if I was making any progress because I cannot see anything that is happening below this big pregnant belly so it was the blind leading the blind down there. I tried looking in the mirror, but I always get confused with the opposite affect that mirrors have and at this point I was panicking so nothing was going to calm me down in time to get the knot undone and the pants down in order to release the flood gates.
I ended up peeing... all the while crying and singing "I'll never survive... I'll never survive"
When all was said and done I had to cut my draw-string with scissors in order to get them off and I threw away the pants that I once loved, but now I hate. They turned on me and I just cannot forgive that kind of treason. Not only did I lose a pair of good maternity pants, but I had to wash the bathroom floor... and the bathroom rug... and that barbie comb as well. I have a Doctor's appointment on Monday and I am thinking of asking if they can just hook me up to a catheter now... life would be so much easier!