There’s something wrong with me. I know this is probably too much information, but you should all know that I pee every five minutes. I may have lied in my Monday Listicle when I said food is the thing I think about the most. Not true, it’s pee.
I think about how much I have to go. If it’s bad enough to get up and actually go. If I can make it and if I can make it before the commercial is over.
These thoughts take up at least 80% of the space in my brain.
Before any of you comment with advice about this problem – stop. I’ve done everything. Pills, exercises, meditation (not really), and one incredibly painful surgery to put all the junk back where it was before all those dumb kids invaded my uterus. I’ve done it all.
I feel like no one really understands my issue. I know other women have pee problems, especially those of us who have had children. (Those ungrateful jerks are murder on the nether regions.) But, not many women have had two sets of twins. Not only did I have two sets of twins, but I have “weak tissue.” That’s what one of my doctors told me once. He said, “all of your stretch marks indicate that you obviously have weak tissue to begin with.” Thanks, jerk.
Until last night, I was sure my pee problem was worse than anyone else’s.
Jen and I have had an excellent week touring Alaska. We drove everywhere. In the last three days we spent 20 hours in the car. It was fun, even those long car trips. But last night we were exhausted.
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was knowing it was Jen’s last night in Alaska. Maybe we’re just juvenile. But we both decided to start drinking and not stop.
For two mom’s pushing 40 with five children between them, this meant lots of trips to the bathroom. At first I was a little self-conscious of my multiple potty breaks – then I realized Jen was taking them too. I think I was three drinks and eight stops in when I told Jen how awesome it was that she makes as many pit stops as I do.
I said, “You know, a lot of my friends are younger, don’t have kids, or have younger kids – so they don’t have to pee as often as I do. It makes me feel like a loser. I’m so glad you have to go every thirty seconds too.”
She looked right at me, chugged her Alaska Summer Ale and said, “I’m to the point in the night where I might as well just sit on the toilet and drink a beer.”
Brilliant. If you need me I’ll be in the bathroom…with a box of wine.