As I begin this tale, know two things:
One, when you are pregnant the urge to pee is pretty undeniable and quite constant.
Two, once you are a mom you will never, under any circumstance, be allowed to forget that you are, in fact, a mom.
Got that? Okay, good.
Last week was a pretty crazy week. (This week is no less crazy but thinking about that makes me want to cry.)
I flew around the house Friday morning trying to make absolutely certain I had everything I needed to take Joshua with me to at least part of our basketball games that evening. Snacks? Check. Some toys? Check. The iPhone charger for his Youtube addiction? Check. And out the door we ran.
I picked him up from daycare that afternoon, grabbing a couple of diapers from his cubby just in case, and back to the school we went. Joshua loves to go watch “baskissball” at the school. Or, you know, climb up and down the bleachers like a crazy man and flirt with my cheerleaders by pretending to ignore them or be embarrassed when they say hi. I’m infinitely grateful for his willingness to be dragged around that school. Infinitely.
Midway through one of the games, Dan came to pick Joshua up and take him home so he wouldn’t miss bedtime. I kissed my boys goodbye and went off in search of some other teachers for adult conversation.
At some point, I reached into my right jacket pocket for my Chapstick and realized that the pocket also contained three diapers, a trial sized pack of wipes, an ink pen, and my car keys. Feeling unbalanced somehow I checked the other pocket and discovered my wristlet, a dozen or so crayons poached from various restaurants, and a couple of race cars–Lightning McQueen and Francesco Bernoulli from Cars 2.
I chuckled at the randomness of it all.
Our student section turned out in decent force on Friday night to watch a pretty intense couple of games of basketball. As such I had to sit on the opposite side of the gym from where I normally like to sit. Our gym is one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever seen because there’s not, at least in my opinion, clearly defined home and away seating. You enter on one side of the bleachers and to get to the bleachers on the other side of the court you have to cross behind the goals. All that exists on the far side of the gym are seats. And to go to the bathroom during the game, as pregnant women often need to do, you have to pick the perfect moment to cross the gym in the space behind the goals in order to take care of business.
As a pregnant lady, I am nothing if not somewhat reluctant to waddle my way across a gym, up some stairs, and into a bathroom. So I decided I’d just hold it until after the game. And drink a Diet Coke while watching the game and holding it.
To say I had to pee upon the conclusion of the game is kind of an understatement.
Once the final buzzer sounded, I said goodbye to the people I’d been sitting with, gave some announcements to the cheerleaders about the following day’s game, and then headed to the toilet to get some relief.
Just when I thought I wouldn’t make it, my pants were down and relief was mine. At the exact same moment that I started peeing, I heard the voice of Lightning McQueen say “Man, I’m glad to see you!”
It was like the toy in my pocket read my mind.
I’m pretty sure The Universe chuckled. I know I did.
Even when Joshua’s not with me, I’m reminded of all the ways my life is different–better, funnier–with him in it.