The Universe

It's conspiring against me. (Still no Special K Fruit Crisps. But that's not what this is about.)

Ever have one of those days? You're so on top of your game. If you're a mom, you are Super Mom. You rock.

Yeeeaaah...that was yesterday. I was fab, let me tell you. Wiggle Man has been a handful this week, but I maintained calm. I firmly, but calmly disciplined him consistently each and every time it was called for.

And I thought to myself, "Hey, self. You've got this. You could so handle another one."

PS--never, ever think that. The moment you do, your toddler and the rest of the universe will set out to prove you wrong.

(PPS--we're not preggers, or anything. I was just feeling like I could handle another one. Just putting that out there so no one gets unduly excited.)

So, case in point: today. Today I woke up, and like every other day, really needed to pee. (This is important. It's a theme.) Our master bath was, um....occupado, so I padded out to use the other bathroom. I saw Wiggle Man cuddled on the chair, and a surge of motherly affection filled my soul. I went to give him a kiss, and saw the massive puddle of pee underneath him. (See? The theme.)

So before I could even pee myself, (that is, use the toilet myself, not actually pee myself, but you get the point) I was cleaning up pee.

After Wiggles and I were clean and dressed, we headed out to run some errands. This was the point that he started making his requests: "Ball store! Ball store! Ball store! Animee crackers? Ball store! Box milkie! Box milkie! Juice Box Milkie!" And on and on. And on.

The car, too, joined in the fun. "Oil change required! BEEEEEP! Oil change required! BEEEEEP! Check charging system! BEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEEP!" And on and on and on.

Through it all, I was ok. I calmly answered Wiggle Man's questions, and remained silent if he repeated a question over and over and over. We got to the store, and I had to pee. (The theme.) "Pancakes? Mama! Pancakes! Me run? Me run in store? Me run?" I was starting to wear thin, but thought, "If I can just make it to the bathroom, I'll be ok."

You may have seen where this was going, but the bathrooms were closed. Renovations. Of course.

I made the fastest possible trip through the store, all the while fielding questions from Small One with Many Questions. "Me treat? Me get red treat? Me Cheerios? Me treat? Toys? Toys, Mama?" And on and on and on.

The whining and begging continued all the way to the car, and out of the parking lot. At this point, I decided we were cutting our outing short, and making a stop to talk to the Rev. Someone needed a talking to from Daddy. And it certainly wasn't me.

The entire way back, I heard, "No Mama! No talk Dada! Mama! Talk Dada! See Dada? NOOOO! No see Dada!" and "Oil change required! BEEEEEEEEP! Check charging system! BEEEEEP! BEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"

A yellow light loomed ahead. While initially I thought I could make it, I changed my mind and decided to stop. Apparently too quickly, since my 64 oz jug of Crystal Light went flying out of the seat and onto the floor. Where it burst, and leaked everywhere.

Oh, and I still had to pee.

We finally made it to the church for the talking to, with one teensy problem. The Rev wasn't there. And I still had to pee.

"Mama! See Dada! Want see Dada! MAMA!" (Insert shrieking and screaming and crying. Mainly by Wiggle Man.)

I went to pull out of the church parking lot to head for home, where I could finally pee, and clean up the ever leaking ice tea now on the floor. This is the point at which every car in our small town came down the road at the same time, keeping me trapped in the parking lot with a full bladder, a soaked carpet, and a screaming toddler.

When I finally was able to pull out, I found myself behind a truck going 10 under the limit.

Eventually, I made it home. Wiggle Man was sent to his room. The car mats were hosed down. I got to pee. The Rev came home, talked to Wiggle Man, and took my car in to be checked. (Oh, how I love that man.) Wiggle Man gave me a hug, said he was sorry, and our day continued on in relative peace and harmony.

So, the morals of this story? 1) Just when you think you're on top of things, it only takes pee to throw you off, and 2) The next time you're driving down the road and see a harried mother behind the wheel of an SUV banging the steering wheel in frustration, spare a smile and a prayer. She may just feel the weight of the world pressing down on her teeny tiny bladder.

Kisses,