I’ve suffered a lot of indignities since becoming a mother. It’s all part of the deal. I’ve spent a few days sitting on an icepack while my husband asks me if my “junk” is feeling okay. I’ve had toddlers pull on the neck of my shirt and expose my bra… in church. I’ve had my skirt pulled up so my underwear could make an appearance… in a gas station. I’ve had to start wearing THREE sports bras to the gym because my previously perky breasts are now roughly the size and shape of a sack of flour poured into two knee socks.
Sure. Not ideal, but I got two awesome kids out of it, so I just kind of go with the flow. Besides, I’m never going to see those truckers again, and I WAS wearing my good underwear (the ones without holes) so whatever. You just approach life as a mom with a sense of humor and an ability to laugh at yourself. Like, a lot.
Which was always my philosophy. Until I peed myself at the gym today.
Yeah, you read that right. Halfway through kickboxing I realize that I have peed myself. Just a little, but still. I guarantee you THAT would never have happened in my 20s. Honestly, as soon as it happened I immediately thought, “FREAKING KATE AND BECKETT.” Like, it’s their fault (lets be honest, it is) and my second thought was, “Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go…” as I skipped out on the second Turbo to race to the bathroom. Which ticked me off even more, because now I just assume everyone in the class thought I couldn’t hack it through the hard parts. And I’m all “I JUST WET MYSELF EVERYONE. NO WORRIES THOUGH BECAUSE I REALLY CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THIS CLASS.”
The upside is that I learned some valuable lessons from this experience. First off, I need to change my circuit to include some new exercises. Squats, lunges, push-ups, kegels. Kegels, kegels, kegels. Repeat.
Second, yes, my babies are worth every moment of embarrassment and pain, but there are some things that I plan to hold against them. Like, for life. Losing control of my bladder just a teeny, tiny bit? At the top of that list. I’m just imaging the first time teenage Kate screams at me, “I HATE YOU!” and I’m going to be all, “YEAH?? Well you made me PEE MYSELF, so NOW we are square.”
Third, no matter how low you have sunk, there is ALWAYS the opportunity for it to get worse. So don’t complain when you eat a bite of pre-chewed brownie or have to clean sunscreen finger paint off the side of your car. Just think.
You could have peed yourself.