So here's the thing. I have approximately one pair of maternity pants. Well, two if you count my lovely black velour sweats, but really. I have several pairs of capris and skirts but since it's winter, that's not working so well. BUT, last week, after being sick to death of my one pair of pants, I ventured out into the snow in capris and ballet flats.
And I felt cute for the first time in months. Cold and getting lots of odd looks, but cute. And I was so smug with myself that I forgot about the one issue capris are famous for---the drawstring waist.
In my normal life, a drawstring waist is no reason for alarm. But when your belly is the size of say, Rhode Island, a drawstring can be your worst enemy. When I was pregnant with Spence a mere eight years ago, I had just gotten home from teaching kindergarten and found myself in the bathroom once again. As I tried to blindly undue the drawstring, I discovered that I had created a knot the size of Texas and COULD NOT get my pants off. Panic set in like no other as I struggled with what to do, pulling and yanking on that darn knot until I finally did what any wise pregnant woman would do.
I climbed into the shower and literally peed my pants.
Not my proudest moment but hell hath no fury like a pregnant bladder.
Fast forward to pregnancy number four and I am in a similar predicament. Although this time I'm not at home. This time I am shopping and there is no shower waiting to offer me salvation. It's just me, the knot from Hades, and my bulging bladder. In my panic, my mind started wandering to things like waterfalls and oceans and I freaked out at the prospect of slinking out of TJMaxx with wet drawers, trying to cover myself and the yellow trail during departure. It. was. horrible.
But, like a gift from the heavens above, I was suddenly granted super pregnant woman strength and I RIPPED THE DRAWSTRING IN PIECES and ahem, relieved myself. In the toilet.
The things we do for children.