Hands-Free

Some would consider the story I am about to tell embarrassing. I like to think of it more as proof of how much I love my 3 week old son. 

I've had the feeling often. It would come on while out for a walk or romp with Shea. The sudden urge to pee. It has never been a gradual thing with me. It's always an, "I have to pee right now," kind of moment. I have always done everything in my power to hold it in until I could fling the door open, sloppily drop my shorts,  and plop down on the toilet at the knick of time. Quite honestly, there is usually a drop or two that have to be wiped off the seat cause of early release. 

In all these instances, I have simply dropped whatever was in my hands, to free them up. Lord knows hands come in very useful when trying to hold it in for an extra two to three seconds! 

Keys, throw them to the floor. Tennis ball chucker, throw it down. Yesterday, however, I had precious cargo in my hands. I had brought Dominick outside with me to throw the ball around to Shea. It's good bonding for them. So, when the sudden urge to pee came along, I ran inside and using my better judgement, I did not throw Dominick to the crowd. I held on tight to him, rather than using my hands as a pee blockage device. 

For those of you who don't think your hands help you hold it in, I can tell you, you are wrong. When I came to the realization that I had no chance of getting Dominick to a safe place, getting my shorts down, and reaching the toilet, I did what any adoring mother would. I ran to the toilet, Dominick in my arms,  and sat down with my shorts still intact. 

It was my best option. I knew I was going to pee myself. This option allowed for the least amount of mess: simply wash the shorts. In fact, I wouldn't quite consider it peeing myself. I mean, I was sitting on the toilet! Yesterday, it became quite clear to me that my son's well-being is more important than my self dignity.