Celebrate Good Times
The Illinois Constitution has taken up a lot of time in the Lane household over the past couple of months. Lane 1 has been studying his little head off because his teacher told him and his classmates daily, if they didn't pass this one test, there was no moving on to the eighth grade. It must be a scary feeling thinking you'll be held back. Lane 1 has never put so much effort into any class, test or anything school related in all of his years.
As the test date approached, Lane 1 had been nothing but a pain in the ass at home. He had a short fuse and bitched and moaned much too often, and usually about nothing. I kept telling him to stop stressing about the test. I reminded him all he could do was his best.
My fuse also has been short because I have been fighting a cold from hell for more than a week. This is more like a case of an upper respiratory infection that is trying desperately to creep into my lungs. The kind of cold that prevents you from getting more than three minutes of cough-free sleep at a time.
When I cough it feels like I'm drowning. It is the worst when I lay down. When I feel a cough coming on, I can't catch my breath, the fluid gurgles, my chest wheezes as if I am whistling through my tits, the veins in head and neck bulge, I curl my body into fetus position trying to get leverage, I grab hold of my abs and chest as if to keep my guts from exploding through my belly button, blood flow and the sound of my pulse thunder in my eardrums, and finally when the cough comes out, I not only gag but splash a little piss in my drawers.
So should my fuse be short? I've lost countless hours of sleep not to mention control of my bladder. I have read stories about women who experience incontinence (that's the big word for Miss Pissy Pants) after having children. I always thought I was lucky because I'd never had that problem, not until now anyway.
My abs hurt as if I have been doing crunches non-stop for a week, only instead of getting a six-pack looking tummy, I got a friggin' keg. A couple of days it was so bad, I actually had to stuff a maxi pad in my drawers to save myself from letting the whole fucking neighborhood know that I have no control of my bladder. Otherwise, if my bladder was empty before the coughing jag came on, I'd be dry as a properly potty trained 3-year-old. (I'm a big kid now!)
Tired, sore and stressed, but actually feeling like the cough was subsiding, I picked the kids up from school yesterday. Thankfully the test is over and Lane 1 showed off his A as soon as he got in the car. He was glowing. Proud of himself and all of his hard work. Lane 2 and I were proud and glad too because frankly, we had enough of his bitching, moaning and freaking out.
I was happy for about two minutes and then the coughing started. It's hard to drive when you feel like you're going to pass out and piss yourself all at once. This was really a bad thing. I was sure the worst of the cough was over so I didn't not prepare for any water works. (meaning, I didn't put a friggin' pad on before I left the house)
As I tried to keep myself from coughing, Lane 1 told me he wanted to be rewarded for his A. He begged me to take him to Dairy Queen to celebrate.
"Come on Mom, please! I really did my best and I got an A. Can't we celebrate? Please?"
Lane 2 chimed in. All of a sudden she was his biggest fan and advocate.
There was no holding back the cough, or the piss dribbles.
"You know what guys? I've had a really crappy day. I didn't sleep last night again because I was up coughing and all day, I had the same problem with the added pleasure of. Oh never mind. Let's just celebrate at home. I'll let you two make some cookies."
"Mom, I studied so hard. Please?"
"Honey I know you studied hard. And I really am proud of you for that but I need to go home."
The disappointment in their eyes just killed me so I thought it best to explain why I was dead set against going to Dairy Queen.
"I'm going to tell you guys something that's wrong with me. It's also the reason I can't take you out for ice cream right now. When I was pregnant with each of you, my body took a beating. You both kicked and elbowed me in places on my insides that should never be touched. You both used my bladder as a trampoline bouncing against it over and over. You probably did little back flips by kicking off of it repeatedly. All of that caused my bladder to grow weak. Now, you know how sick I've been and how I've been coughing like crazy. What I've spared you from knowing is that when I cough really, really hard, a little tinkle comes out."
The laughter was insane. That was by far the funniest thing either of them have heard in all of their lives. I could tell I was going to get no sympathy whatsoever from these two.
Lane 1 asked through his laughter, "You got yourself a little puddle now, Tinklebell?"
"As a matter of fact smart ass, yes I do. And that's why I can't take you and why I have to get home quick."
"Can't we just go through the drive-thru? It's not like anyone will see you wet your pants there." Lane 2 almost said without laughing.
The child did have a point. I did want to reward Lane 1 for his A but not at the expense of my own embarrassment. The drive-thru was the prefect way to cover all bases and keep me from having to leave the house again once we were home.
"Okay, drive-thru it is."
"Thanks mom! Sorry I laughed about you peeing and stuff."
"It's okay son, it is kind of funny when you think about it."
As I pulled up to the speaker, Lane 1 told me he wanted the Blizzard of the Month. Lane 2 said she wanted a Georgia Mud Fudge Blizzard.
"Hi! Welcome to Dairy Queen, how may I help you?"
"Hi. Could I please have three small Blizzards?"
"Sure what kind?"
"I'd like two Georgia Mud Fudge Blizzards and one of your monthly specials."
"Which special ma'am?"
I didn't really know what Lane 1 was talking about when he said that but I thought the lady in the box would know. So I said, "Could you hold on a second please?"
"Sure. Let me know when you are ready."
"Son, what do you want?"
"The one there on the sign. A Brownie Batter Blizzard of the Month."
"Oh. Okay. Miss, we are ready."
"I'd also like one small Brownie Bladder Blizzard. Crap! I mean a..."
This Freudian slip was too much for the children to bear. I think they both pissed their pants hearing me slip up. The three of us laughed as I tried once again to order the stupid brownie thingy, which is what I ended up calling it to the lady because my mouth kept wanting to say 'bladder'.
We'd barely pulled out of the drive-thru to head for home when my cell phone rang. I had Lane 2 answer because I was trying to keep from laughing/coughing/peeing again.
Mr. Lane finished talking to Lane 2 and then she handed me the phone. There was just the regular hubby wife small talk stuff and I told him I hate talking and driving and said I would call him later.
As we were getting off of the phone he said, "Don't forget to stop by the drug store sometime today and get yourself some Pull-Ups."
I was too busy laughing to remind the moron that we ruined my body together.
To all of you who experienced TMI (too much information) from reading my post today, I apologize. To all of the wonderful moms who suffer from Miss Pissy Pants Syndrome. I sympathize. To Jeanette and Tony, psss... it really is a potty! To those of you who are thinking of making more fun of me than I already have, go right ahead because although my bladder is weak, I am otherwise a pretty tough broad.