There's something I've come to realize about myself. When I'm pregnant, for some odd reason, I become nastier. I talk about nasty stuff, I blog about nasty stuff, I even DO nasty stuff. But I think it's because it comes with the territory. Being pregnant is just plain nasty, right? I mean not BEING pregnant but the crap you gotta go through TOTALLY violates your privacy so I think for ME...I just let it consume my every being and I just BECOME nasty. Why not right?
If you're having a hard time remembering all the nasty stuff that comes along with being pregnant, lemme refresh your memory with THIS post that came from Penny being in utero (spell check said I spelled this wrong U-TER-O??).
Today I went to the beach to celebrate the first day of Summer break for my kids. OH and it was Ashlea's birthday too. But she's hot and young so she doesn't need anymore attention. Let's move on.
When I got to the beach I had the urge to poo. I can usually hold it for quite some time and so I did. The bathrooms were not only far (and I'm in no shape to be walking long distances) but they were also nasty...like...spiders were probably in the toilet waiting to catch a glimpse of my bare buns landing on top of the toilet seat (because we ALL know...you can't hover when you gotta poo). I wasn't having that so I ignored the warning signs and went about my lallygagging around with friends (who were all thinner than me making ME "the fat girl"...but whatever).
When it was time to go I started gathering my junk and I knelt down to grab something. BAD MOVE. The pressure from my thighs against my ULTRA low baby belly triggered something. Something bad. Something that I wasn't ready for. I knew right then...I gotta go...like NOW.
Since my friends were there and we were in mid pack, I hid my urgency and hurry and loaded up the car. I had gotten past the first wave...you know how it comes in waves and I was ready to just get the heck outta there and HOME. I thought, for safety reasons, I should drive past the bathrooms but it was hot and I was sticky and the spiders were probably still there. I talked my self into just hurrying home. I could make it. I could do it.
All the way home was torture. I kept thinking I should stop somewhere...I HAD to. I just knew I was gonna poo my swimmer and the kids would HAVE to find out which meant they would tell my Lover and he would NEVER let me live it down. No. NEVER. He's mean like that. There was an incident in Mexico one time. Yes. Not to be discussed on this blog but I'm sure you can use your imagination given the nasty food and water they have there and what it can do to a person. Yea. Gross. To this day he STILL makes fun of me for it. I couldn't allow him to have TWO incidents to slap in my face whenever he felt the need.
So 30 minutes of driving was torture. Do you do this? You know how it comes in waves and it's like excruciating pain? You have to clinch your butt cheeks together and breath through the poo contraction. Does anyone else do that? OH man. I was sweating bullets trying to make it through each poo contraction. Jake knew I was in pain so he tried distracting me by reading from Time Magazine which only made things worse. It was like having your lover by your side while you're in true labor (not poo labor) encouraging you to "do this! it's okay! come on babe!" UGHH. Shut the FREAK UP and just let me concentrate through this poo contraction JAKE!!! I know he meant well but well it was NOT.
I ended up calling my friend Kempy on the way home to take my mind off the pain. It helped, the poo contractions let up. Once I got home I had to hurry and unload Penny into his bed but as soon as I stepped outta the car it hit again. Holy mother. I felt a tiny poot pressure but I knew if I tried to release it then all POO would break loose. I clinched, I sweated, I breathed. I grabbed Penny and threw him in his bed...RUNNING to the potty.
I made it and lemme just say it would NOT have been pretty in my swimmer and car seat.
And yes Kempy...you were my poo phone call and you didn't even know it. I'm sorry. I needed you. I know you'll forgive me.
Aren't you loving my nasty side?