Gotta go gotta go...

Gotta go right now.

I used to laugh at that commercial.  I thought it was reeeeal funny.

Well, this little blog goes out to all the mamas and old ladies who USED to think that commercial was funny...

and now they call it real life.

I'd like to say that peeing my pants started after Ella, but I cannot lie.  Nor would a lie work because too many people know the truth.

It all started with a tiara... and it got worse with a bowling ball of a belly... and has stayed worse when the bowling ball became a beauty (who will one day know what I'm talking about--and I'm not talking about her potty training years).

I remember it clear as day.  The day many girls dreams of.  She's standing on stage with five other girls and six guys waiting for the big announcement.

"And the Homecoming King is...David Humphrey."  We all cheer loudly; what a guy he is!

And then suddenly we all become a bit nervous, we don't know whether to be excited or scared because the Queen will be announced moments later.  If it's not me, then we can still be happy for David, but c'mon, that's gonna be awkward.  And if it is me, we just may have made BGSU history (we get engaged the following weekend).  And then the announcement: "And the Homecoming Queen is...Sarah Hague."

You thought it was going to happen here, didn't you?

Not quite...that would have been humiliating!  It happened the next day after eight hours of tiara wearing and football game extravaganza-ing.  Thank goodness.

It was probably more entertaining because it was the latter anyway.  It had been a full day (pun intended) with pictures, meet and greets, the football game, etc.  There wasn't much time to go if you know what I mean.  Plus, I was just soaking up the moments of that grand time.  After a long day, David and I decided to head back to my residence hall so that I could get a change of clothes, and we could go get some dinner.  It wasn't until we reached the 3rd floor of my building when I realize, "Man, I gotta go to the bathroom." So, we walked a little faster.  As soon as I reached the community bathroom, I desperately tried to type in the number code to unlock the door.

"Beep beep beep!" Wrong code. So, I tried again. "Beep beep beep!" Really?! I'm the RA on the floor; I know that's the code. C'MON!!! And finally, after a few more very desperate attempts to unlock the door, it swings open.

But it was too late.

I felt like Harry in Dumb and Dumber.  "I can't stop once I've started, Lloyd!" I ran down the short hallway towards the stall.  As I'm standing in front of the showers, tiara pinned tight to my cute hairdo and my sash hanging across my new shirt bought just for the event, I think to myself "Should I get in? I mean, I'm already going...what's a toilet gonna do?"  Needless to say, I decide to progress to an open stall.  At this point, I am way past ever getting out this situation a normal person.  So, what do I do? I sit down on toilet.

Pants still on.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Pure panic.

And I just keep going.

After I finished, I just kept sitting there.  I mean, now I've really got trouble.  My new pants (also bought just for the event) must be water resistant.  So I now have a huge bulging diaper of sorts hanging in the toilet bowl.  Now what?  There's no getting out of here anywhere near dry.  So, I stand up.  And like Niagra Falls on a hot summer day, it goes rushing down my legs all over my red painted toenails.

At this point, I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.  I'm at a loss for words.  So, I laugh.  And laugh hard.

I walk with stiff legs as the wet pants cling to my skin all the way back to the exit looking like I just got off a water ride at an amusement park...and then I peek my head out the door.  Laughing hysterically in that "I can't really breathe or make a human type of sound because the wind is practically knocked out of me" I try to tell David what has happened.  "Iiiiiiiiii pppp...pppp....eeeee...."

"What?" He says, completely confused.

"Iiiii peeeee pppppeedd..."

"What? I can't understand you."

"I peeeeeed my pants."

"Ewwwww.  Go get a shower!"

Yeah, like I didn't already think of that.

And so it started.  Only to repeat itself twice in one day when I was eight months pregnant...right before we were about to leave the house for a big job interview for David.

And then again, when I was nine months pregnant, and just let it out in the driver's seat of my car because the house was too far away...even though I was parked in the driveway.

It just sort of happens.  You have an eight pound baby kick you in the bladder and then you'll know what I mean (well, except for that tiara day).  And every day after that baby's born, you'll be reminded...when you sneeze, when you laugh really hard and pray to God for restraint, and when you bend over to pick something off the floor.

It's the dance of mama.  And I wouldn't change it for the world.

On that note, g'nite all!

:)

(This is us pictured with the 1951 Homecoming Queen--pre-incident.)

(corresponding song: Send Me on My Way by Rusted Root)