That one time I peed my pants....a little.

   So, remember how I said that 2.5 pounds would be back on in a jiffy? Its back! Plus an extra pound. That puts me at 19 weeks and 3.5 pounds gained. Not too bad, but I have gotta start exercising more. We are currently figuring out our gym membership due to some neglectful day care attendees(they couldn't find my son when I came to pick him up after working out and then realized he was locked in the bathroom, covered in toilet water, playing in the trash!) Yeah, so I had some words with the manager....BUT, that's no excuse for me to not exercise. So, hopefully by my next post I will have better news about my exercising.

   Things have been great in my home, but a little crazy. We moved to a bigger apartment that we absolutely love, but I am learning more and more about the necessity of baby-proofing, or should I say, "toddler-proofing", because babies are actually harmless. Toddlers, however, are pricey, sassy little buggers.
  I was sitting in our bedroom one day when I realized that my toddler had left the room....and so had my cell phone. I cringed as I heard a somewhat small, electronic-device-sounding splash come from the hallway bathroom and raced to find my Iphone 4S, sinking to its death and ultimate demise.

"Rest in peace, 4S....you lived a long, fulfilling life and died a tragic death. You will be missed."

    Lets just say my husband and I were beyond frustrated at this point with my son's toilet obsession. Unless, of course, he wants to potty-train himself. Then we're kosher. So, we made the long, arduous journey to Babies-R-US and headed to the baby-isle.
"Can I help you?" Said a nice, matronly, grandmother-type salesperson.
"Yes," I said, "we'd like to prevent any more of our cell phones from drowning in our toilet. Where can we find baby-proofing for toilets?"
"Oh," she said, glancing at my toddler, who was probably picking his nose at that exact moment, "I know exactly what you mean.<understanding, matronly, smile> "Let me show you the best one we have."
She walked me over to what looked like some sort of toddler-torture device.
"Perfect!" I thought to myself. "Maybe it squirts them in the face if they set off the laser, motion activated scanner...thing. Or something...."
Don't get me wrong, I love my son. But when $500 worth of merchandise goes the way of the dinosaurs because of him, I don't mind the idea of him getting a little bit of discipline in his life.
This technique seems promising as well:

  But my daydream ended when I heard her say, "Fair warning, though. I've had parents bring these back because they were so hard to open that even they couldn't figure them out." And then she walked away.
"Who do I look like?" I thought to myself, "Britney Spears??"

"Please...I can figure this thing out and we are getting it!" So, we did.
My husband installed it that night and gave me a tutorial on how to "unlock" it so I could use the toilet.
"You see this button?" He said. "You just push this button in, and while holding it down, push the handle in, and turn it to the right." He demonstrated.
"Like this?" I said, and did as he showed and told me to.
"Yup!" he said. "Looks like the lady at the store was wrong. We got this!"
....Can you feel the foreshadowing?....

   The next morning, I heard my toddler swearing from the bathroom.
"Dag ga BADda Schoom MAAAAAA!"(That's toddler profanity, for those of you who haven't heard it yet)
"YES!" I thought to myself. "SUCCESS!...Muwaahahahahahah!"(That's momma profanity, for those of you who haven't heard that yet)
He couldn't get the toilet-proofing device off the toilet. Hence, no splashy-splashy in the poopy-poopy.
Needless to say, he was furious, and I was elated. He couldn't get the toilet open! I was soon to find out, however, that he wasn't the only one...
   For most women, going pee several times a day is normal. And for most pregos, going pee every other hour is normal, and several times throughout the night.
  Well, nature called, and I decided to go use our master bathroom and avoid the toddler drama. I sat down, let nature do her thing, and then realized, MID STREAM, that there was no toilet paper. None. I stopped, held it, and started feeling the life drain from my body, instead of the pee. My heart started racing, my breath sped up, and I could feel my hands starting to shake.
 "Really?" You're thinking right now. "All that from having to hold your pee?"
But if you've ever been pregnant, you know EXACTLY what I am talking about. THERE IS NO ROOM. Sweet, baby bunting is hogging it ALL. So, when you gotta go, you GOTTA go. Or death. That's just how it is.

 AND, to get to go and then have to stop, mid-stream, is just plain mean.
But there was no toilet paper!
"What do I do? What do I do? Drip dry? Yeah, maybe drip dry.....and then, "Eeew. Nope, I NEED toilet paper!"
Then I remembered there was some in the other bathroom. My toddler's bathroom. The one that was booby trapped.
"I totally got that thing to work last night," I thought, "no biggie!"
So I waddled, ahem, to the other bathroom and started following my husbands instructions.
"Okay...okay...push the thing, and then...turn the, other thing...and AAAAAH, WHY ISN'T IT WORKING???!!
At this point, I am DYING. I have to pee so badly that my vision is starting to blur.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh...." I said to myself, "breathe Liz, BREATHE!" The pain was intolerable.
(Ya know, they really should have Lamaze classes dedicated just to teaching you how to hold your pee while pregnant and breathe at the same time.) 

I then decided that maybe Britney and I had more in common than I wanted to admit, and I gave up on trying to figure out this simple, yet deadly, device.
I waddled back to my bathroom and continued my journey......I peed. A lot.
I then realized I was back to my original dilemma. NO toilet paper. So, I called out to my toddler, who was no where in sight.
"Aiden! AIDEN! Momma's sorry she took away your favorite toy. If you bring me some toilet paper, I will let you play in the toilet as MUCH as you WANT today........<silence> Aiden? AAAIDEEEEEN!!!"
Now, let me remind you, my toddler understands two words: Milk, and Ball. Why I thought I could somehow get him to understand that mommy needed him to get me some toilet paper, I don't know.
So, I went "girl's camp style", flushed the toilet, pulled my pants up, and walked out of my room to find my toddler standing in the hallway with a strange, semi-frightened look on his face and no toilet paper in hand.
"Awesome." I thought. "Just awesome."
Maybe there really is such a thing as karma. You punish your toddler...he punishes you back. Bladder style.
"Why didn't you just grab some toilet paper and go back to the other bathroom in the first place?" You say?
Because, then I wouldn't have been able to blog about it. :)