The potty often feels like my nemesis. Don't get me wrong. I love it when my kids are finally potty-trained. But the pressure to find a potty at the worst possible moments makes me think back to the days of diapers with nostalgia. I am not exaggerating when I say that I know the location of every bathroom, in every store we frequent.
Like today for instance. It was after 12:30 and I hadn't yet fed my kids. The littlest was starting to whine as I scrambled to get my children, their coats, their hats, their papers, their crafts, and their valentines into the car from church. Hubby was at work so I was riding solo. The wind was whipping around, my hair was stuck to my lip gloss, and it was frigid. Once everyone was settled, tucked neatly into their car seat contraptions, with my hand on the door handle, the dreaded words pierced my ears, "I need to go potty, mommy."
I stood for a moment wondering if I could possibly ignore the request until child number two chimed in, "I need to go too." Are you kidding me? It felt like the last ten minutes had been a complete waste. Not to mention that I could not even see the floor of my van from all of their artwork. So with a deep breath, and quick prayer, "Lord help me," I crawled back in and set up our trusty portable potty--one of the very best investments of all time.
As child number one, then child number two, completed their respective business, and as I watched the last of the cars drive off to enjoy their lazy Sunday afternoon, slowly my blood pressure began to fall back into normal range. You know, with all the suffering and serious bondage in the world one would think that such menial pressures would roll right off my back. But no.
Ahhhhh. Just keepin' it real.
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