Any parent of young children is familiar with the utter lack of privacy that accompanies a toddler.
Whenever I need a couple of minutes to myself, my kid is ALWAYS right there, asking important questions like,
“What are you doing?” or “Mommy, where’s my juice?”
I don’t remember the last time that I got to use the bathroom without an assistant. I’m not complaining- this is just part of being a parent.
We recently joined a fitness facility, and I signed up for a private session on a Friday at 3:30. This meant that I had to bring my chatterbox of a tot to the gym with me, but the trainer assured me that she knew all that was involved with toddlers, even if she wasn’t yet a parent, herself.
At 6 months pregnant, after a 15 minute car ride, I needed to use the restroom as soon as we arrived.
As is our routine, I brought my kid with me into the bathroom. We emerged a quick minute later, Jasper bolting out of the door, announcing,
“MY MOMMY POOPED!! HOORAY!!”
I assured Jasper that I had only peed, and thanked him for support.
Sadly, my fair Irish complexion belayed the true nature of my complete and utter embarrassment. And I hadn’t even tried to waddle my belly through the floor stretches yet. Ugh.