I peed in my pants three times last week. That’s not a confession I make lightly, not knowing who reads what is ‘out there’ once it’s out, but it is a serious confession nonetheless. You see, I had one sick baby and one demanding toddler and a house to run. Surely you could find two minutes to take a piss? I hear you say. Mothers don’t work that hard! I hear some fools say. Seems easy enough but clearly, it wasn’t.
There just don’t seem to be enough hands or hours in a day. Diapers that need changing and spit-ups that need cleaning, I have an abundance of. Also, when one child cries, the other inevitably becomes niggly for some reason, which makes the one crying cry more and then the niggly one niggles more and thus a vicious cycle is formed. That will also be the exact moment, (which I unfortunately learnt from experience,) you look up from breastfeeding, titties exposed, to find your gardener gawking through the window about to ask for some sugar for tea. Privacy, I think all moms will agree, is a luxury we simply can't afford anymore.
The day started off, I might add, with my toddler lovingly walking into my shower and offering to wash my feet for me. (She, like most toddlers I’m told, is obsessed with water and soap.) She didn’t care that her outfit was getting wet, or that she walked a fair amount of mud into my shower, she had a mission and mom was fair game. She also didn’t care that I was trying to have a shower at break neck speed because I was already running late for her play-group commitment.
I wondered then, When will I ever be able to enjoy a long, hot shower again? I would never be cheeky enough to wish for a long bath. Those days are a distant memory.
Which brings me to the urination situation. My earlier wondering, when the toddler was at the age of examining all things that came out of our bodies and helping me wipe and flush (often simultaneously, often resulting in a rather wet butt!) was When will I ever be able to pee in private again?
I TAKE BACK WISHING FOR A PRIVATE PEE! To the fairies who grant wishes for mothers everywhere, I TAKE IT BACK!
These days, I wish I could just get to the loo in time to pee – with hands free, preferably! The baby is at the crying-when-put-down-and-not-held-in-someone’s-arms-stage, and so she is carried around for a large portion of the day, which makes getting to the loo problematic. Especially because it’s winter and there are layers that need removing, but that’s besides the point. Plus the toddler, who also gets niggly and wants ‘uppy, mamma!’ at the most inconvenient moments.
I simply didn’t make it.
Not once, but thrice.
There is a psychological analysis of this entire scenario that I don’t feel brave enough to face. Why doesn’t the mother make time for herself? I hear you ask. Surely it’s not the end of the world if the children cry for a little while, while you take a pee? I hear some fools say. And yes, you’re right. Those are both valid points. But I don’t like hearing my kiddies cry, (what mother does?) and I really don’t like taking time for myself if it means that I lose out on special moments, like having my feet washed by an almost-three-year-old.
Perhaps I should remember that one day, I might really need someone to be in the surrounds while I pee, because one day I may be unable to pee by myself for all the wrong reasons. The Seven Ages of Man by William Shakespeare so clearly explains, we all revert to infant-dom later on in life. These days it may well include adult diapers and a fair amount of spit up. I hope my kids read this blog post then. Hopefully, they won’t need to. Hopefully they will love me as much in my old age, when I am pissing on myself for all the wrong reasons, as I love them now. That is perhaps what I should wish for most of all. Are you listening, fairies?
You might be pleased to know, (if you will permit me to add to the information of my already completely TMI confession,) that I only peed a little bit. Just enough to take the edge off.