Real Life

I've been solo parenting for close to a week now as Dadd-O is away for work. Evenings have been pretty uneventful- pick up from daycare/preschool, play outside, eat dinner, playtime, Harrison watches TV while I put Jaxy to bed, I fight with him to brush his teeth and go to sleep... And repeat.

Yesterday, I thought I'd mix it up a little, and decided last minute to stop at the local playground. I wasn't really dressed in playground attire, but I figured, What the heck? Live a little! (yes, this is my life now). As we pulled in to the school parking lot, I realized how busy it was- and I also realized that I had to pee BAD. If you've given birth to a child (or more than one) you know how that can take a toll on your bladder. So when I say I had to pee, I had to pee NOW.

I'll be right back, I said.
I wanna come, screamed Harrison.
No, I'll be right back. I just have to pee.
So do I!

Of course... of course you do. I can't leave screaming children in my car in a school parking lot with 100 witnesses people nearby. I didn't see a porta-potty and I'm not familiar enough with the school to know if it was locked, or even where the bathroom was, and things were getting pretty urgent. I took the boys out of their car seats, held their little hands as we crossed the busy parking lot, and walked carefully into the "woods". (By woods, I mean five feet of trees between the parking lot and some one's backyard.)

Sssshhhh, I said. I'm just going to pee really quick. Luckily I was wearing a skirt, so I squatted down and went to work.

Are you pooping? Harrison yelled.
No! Ssshhh!

And that's when Jaxy squatted down to check out what I was doing right up close.

Bubbles! He exclaimed.
Yes, there are bubbles... from my pee.

Harrison then proceeded with a less than accurate anatomy lesson on how girls pee differently than boys and "baginas" are grosser than penises.

I finished up, drip dried and stood to head out of the "woods". That's when I realized that the back of my skirt was wet. Not just a little wet either, the back of my skirt was soaked in urine.

Shit!
Shit's a bad word, Harrison reminded me.
Yes, it is, sorry.
Can we go play now?
Yes, just a second. I need to get something out of my car.

Thankfully, I'd been driving my gym bag around, unused, for the past two weeks. I reached in and found a pair of yoga pants, slipped them on under my skirt and voila. But wait... I can't wear my dressy work shirt with yoga pants.

Boys, stay right there on the edge of the grass.
Why are you getting in the car?

I stealthily slipped one shirt off and the other one on, while the boys threw rocks onto the grass (apologies to whomever mows). I'm telling myself that no one saw a thing.

Why did you change your shirt? Did you pee on your shirt?
Who wants me to push them on the swing?!?

I can't make this shit up, people.