So, I know someone who peed her pants in a pet store this week. It was NOT me, just someone I KNOW. Because I would never, ever pee my pants in a pet store or anywhere else. Nope. Not me.
But, I’m not going to judge because…I totally get it. (Even though it was NOT ME, remember?)
See, this friend of mine was running errands with her kids. After doing the morning dash of breakfast and dressing, she packed all of their stuff – snacks, drinks, diapers, wipes, changing table blanket, toys, more snacks – then wrestled them into safety seats before they could manage to UNdress themselves. She really needed to use the restroom, BUT the kids were already cranky, so she decided she could hold it. She could. She is super awesome like that.
Then she drove a loooong way to get to the shopping center, like 35 minutes because this friend lives in the middle of nowhere and it’s a long drive to get to Target. Which I completely get because I also live in the middle of nowhere and it really IS worth the drive just to get to Target.
But by the time they got there, the kids were even MORE cranky. The family restroom was RIGHT THERE, BUT…the kids. The kids were so freaking cranky. And they really wanted to get to the pet store to buy stuff for their new pet turtle. Which I completely understand because MY kids also got a new pet turtle this week and they also were excited to go to the pet store.
So, she still had to pee, but raced through Target, paid, then loaded up the Target stuff and the kids, drove to the pet store, and hauled the kids inside. Because they were cranky, remember? They were excited, remember? So, she made it to the pet store’s restroom, got the cart and the kids inside, then parked the cart the perfect distance from EVERYTHING so her youngest kid couldn’t touch ANYTHING. Of course! She was very careful and even though she REALLY NEEDED TO PEE, she took her time about it because GERMS. That’s what moms do, right?
She even made it into the stall, but then, in the act of dropping trou…the flood-gates opened and…she peed. Right there. On the trou.
And she was so embarrassed, and so laughing and so…done. Done with those underpants – but even more done with this badge called “the indignities of motherhood.”
Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about this badge. It’s everywhere. In every post on the Interwebz about not peeing alone or pooping alone. Or not having time to shower, or shave ones legs or wear makeup. About not getting a hot cup of coffee. Or a warm meal or regular haircuts or new underpants when the old pairs are tatty and have no elastic (or they are peed in a pet store).
And it’s in every post where some mother is judged because she DOES have a real hair style or coordinated clothes or invisible cuticles. And in every post where we assume that woman with the great, seasonally appropriate handbag that is NOT overflowing with snacks and diapers must be selfish and/or have a sugar daddy.
I don’t want to be the woman who pees her pants for THE CHILDREN. (Good thing that was someone else!) I don’t want to be the mom who is so attentive, I leave the door open to the bathroom while attending to my personal business. And I don’t want to be the mom who looks like yesterday’s coffee on it’s third reheat, creamer congealing on the rim. (At least not EVERY DAY.)
My friend doesn’t, either. She’s taken off the badge – the badge she thought said, “Mother” that really says, “Sucker.” And she has a new one. It says, “Human.” And the next time she has to pee – she’s GOING. (Unless it’s a nasty gas station. Because GERMS.)