The Pee-Pee Chronicles

Now that I’ve been home from LA for a full week and have some time to actually talk to friends and read one email a day or so, the question I’ve most often been asked is, what exactly were you doing there for five weeks?

I can tell you in a word:

Peeing.

I was peeing.

I peed in office buildings, in restaurants, in coffee shop; in boutiques that took mercy on the wiggly pregnant woman and violated their own no-restroom-for-customers policies with a reluctant wave towards the stockroom in back. I peed in gas stations. I peed in men’s rooms. I peed in a scary public toilet on the Santa Monica Beach, praying for dear life that my quivering, atrophied thigh muscles wouldn’t give out as I squatted above that condemned commode. I peed anywhere, anytime, from El Segundo to the Fairfax District and all the way north to Burbank without hesitation or apology.

But most of all, I peed at work.

There’s nothing quite like that exquisite combination of a third-trimester bladder and a full-time office job. I easily lost count of the times I made that lap from my office to the rest room on the other end of the floor and back. I’m certain I was doing about 6k a day. In boots, no less. I would complain about the distance, but considering the candy machine was right outside my office door, it’s probably the only reason I didn’t put on more weight than I already did.

Home, sweet home. And by sweet I mean the smell of Harvest Spice Airwick.

Hey! You in stall 4! That’s reserved for the disabled. And, um…me.


After each trip, no sooner did I return to my desk, settle back into a comfortable position (legs on the desk, laptop on thighs; I’m just not a good, ladylike desk sitter) and get back to work, my bladder would miraculously fill to capacity once again. And so, off I’d go, backtracking from whence I’d just come with a stone-rigid abdomen that, along with the urgency, forced my gait into that of a duck on speed.

Waddle there, walk back. Repeat.

(I know the accounting department was making quacking noises behind my back as I passed their row of cubes. I just know it.)

Each trip down the hall I would think, this is the time I won’t make it. This is the time I have pushed my limits by taking one too many phone calls, responding to one too many emails, stopping to chat with one too many coworkers on the way and surely the entirety of the Pacific Ocean that I have somehow consumed in the previous twenty minutes will burst forth from my bladder in a giant tsunami, embarrassing me for all of eternity.

And yet, I always arrived in time to scootch my arse out of some elastic waistband or another in time to relieve myself of a good half-teaspoon or so in the proper way.

Tsunami indeed.

Hello, old friend. It’s been what, 20, 25 minutes? You haven’t changed a bit.

 

T
he view from the throne: It’s good to be the Pee Queen.

Needless to say, I got to know that restroom pretty well. Or at least better than any one person should have to, short of she who is paid to clean it.

I soon knew which toilet was the last to be used in the morning and which ran out of supplies first in the afternoon. I became aware of which coworker only seemed able to use stall 2, which one left a flood of water around the sink, and which one used more than her fair share of toilet paper. (Hello? You don’t need to wrap 37 yards of it around your hand for it to be effective.) I even noticed that every day between 2 and 2:30, some inconsiderate wench left the seat cover on the seat in stall 1. Helpful hint: “For your protection” doesn’t just mean for your protection.

The universal symbol for “Attention drum majorettes: Discard your drumsticks and feminine hygiene products here.”

I was in there enough that I seriously considered decorating. Nothing drastic of course. But it would have been nice to hang up a print or two, maybe put up a few snapshots of my daughter. Some fresh flowers would have prettied the place up and certainly some reading material would have been welcome since women can’t just walk into a restroom with a book, the same way men do. There could have been something magazine-y maybe, that one could read in short spurts. A paperback humor anthology. Or even the latest issue of The Onion.

No dice.

Instead, I had to settle for the only reading material I could find:

Bow down to the management, your protectors and saviors!


Does anyone else ever wonder why those seat covers are printed with Provided by the Management for your Protection and yet nothing else in the bathroom is? Is it that important for the management to get some sort of acknowledgment for providing you with this particular sanitary item and no others?

The way I see it, it’s like saying, When you take a crap, think of the management!

Yeah, I spent too much time in that bathroom.

Way too much time.

{53 Comments}

53 thoughts on “The Pee-Pee Chronicles”

  1. Hahahahaha! I will never think of a public restroom in the same way ever again. Required trips will now be accompanied with obligatory snickering.I think I’m damaged goods now.

  2. Oh, oh, oh. This would have had me rolling on the floor if doing so would not awaken my sleeping family.The view from the throne. Priceless.

  3. Are those your feet? Your feet look great, nice pedicure! I remember constantly peeing too, when I was pregnant… I was so close to just going and buying Depends.

  4. I’m usually a lurker here, but I have to say that the “drum majorettes” caption made me giggle uncontrollably. Hi-liarious!

  5. tee hee…whenever i go anywhere, i always have to try out the bathroom, and i’m not even pregnant.love your pedicure!!

  6. Quality time in the restroom is…well, always good to read about, LOL. Says the biased person who just blogged about it and just awarded a Feb ROFL award to Piglet of Fire for blogging about it LOL So I have to ask, did you follow the Ladies’ Restroom Rules?And now I don’t think I can get the image of stuffed suit Management sitting around a conference table taking secret ballots about risk versus benefit costs of Potty Rim Protection for Employees.Very funny post, LOL.P.S. Just tell me someone else paints your toenails for you. I can’t even imagine beign over 30 weeks preggers and able to reach my feet.P.P.S. I wore black flip flops the last 10 weeks of PG #2. And that’s all. 🙂

  7. I was having BH contractions and worrying my OB that I was heading towards premature labor. His advice was to drink more water (which stopped the contractions). I was like what are you crazy? I am already on the toilet all the time any way and I have a toddler to take care of. Hang in there!

  8. Haha! I should have documented a very similar path at work during my pregnancy. It would have to include a detour to the break room to pick up popcorn though.

  9. Right there with ya. You and me sister, you and me. I’m very impressed by how clean your work’s restroom looks, however. Thank goodness for that, huh?

  10. I totally remember that. Except that I didn’t have a laptop at work. Otherwise I would have set up my office directly in there, and just worked from the throne, peeing as necessary.

  11. Who put our bladders so close to our freakin’ uteri (uteruses?) anyway? That is one major design flaw.

  12. You have one of the cleanest office bathrooms I have ever seen. Wow.And I’m right there with you on the peeing nonstop thing. I think the number one reason I haven’t gained anything this pregnancy is because of the hike I take to the bathroom every hour at work, and the extra walking I’ll do to get to a bathroom out in public.I agree though – it is so unfair to feel like you’re going to burst with a wave of pee, only to have a little bit trickle out.

  13. Wow, and I thought I was the only one reading the toilet seat covers and anything else available while trying to go….Nice observative post. I really enjoyed it.

  14. Hee Hee. Pee Pee. There’s just something about being alone in a bathroom for us moms who never seem to get enough time by ourselves that seems to make us go a little batty. < HREF="http://www.mommypoppins.com/?p=35" REL="nofollow">Check out what happened when I found myself alone on my last business trip<>.

  15. I still feel some sort of weird attachment to a particular bathroom stall at work. Partly because of all of the peeing through two pregnancies and partly because my labor officially started in the very same stall. Good times, good times indeed.

  16. I remember those days. I once asked my boss if she thought maybe it would be more efficient to just move my desk into the handicap stall until I delivered, and I could just work from the toilet.

  17. Hilarious and, alas, all too familiar! If I could have gotten more than a trickle to make its way from my bladder to the toilet in my third trimester, I would have been a happy woman.Keep your eyes on the prize, and I don’t mean the baby. I mean the ability to go two whole hours without peeing. Woo-hoo!You’re way too funny for words.Kandice

  18. I must say that this is the cleanest bathroom I’ve ever seen in my life. Including the ones in my house.

  19. I am new to your blog, actually, new to the blogisphere (can you believe?!?), and LOVE it! I’ll certainly be back.

  20. “Attention drum majorettes.” Liz, you are my personal heroine. Also, how cute are your toes?!?!?! I could never post my toes online; not until I beat the winter ugly out of them.

  21. I’m so totally embarrassed to admit this that I’m posting my comment anonymously, but due to pregnancy and some other less discreet health issues, I too have spent a great deal of time in my workplace bathroom. To cure my boredom, I smuggled in a small sudoku book and a golf pencil and hid them behind the box of seat covers in my ‘favorite’ stall. Yeah, I know. I’ll pause here and wait for the laughter to die down. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!

  22. I am cracking up — as I read this I have my legs up on my desk and my laptop in my lap!Are you sure you’re not me? Well, back when I was pregnant. And I guess in some alternate universe where I lived in New York City.Because I too peed so often I considered just bringing the laptop in there.

  23. “that lap from my office to the rest room on the other end of the floor and back” – oh how well I remember that – thanks for the memories!

  24. Another reason I am choosing to adopt:I’m trying to save the trees. Think of all the toilet paper and seat protectors I’m not using in my bid to increase my family size.I’m going green.LOL!

  25. Is there a CCTV camera in the bathroom? They would have seen you taking pictures in the stall LOL

  26. LOL! I don’t think I’ve ever read such a thorough essay on the frequency of bathroom trips in the thid trimester. BTW, nice pedicure! And are you sitting on the toilet? Hopefully protecting with something from management.

  27. The drum majorette bit cracked me up! I see what you mean, it does look like a drumstick. To the silly man who designed those bathroom graphic symbols: drumsticks are made out of wood which are not absorbent nor do they have a place in feminine hygiene receptacles. Go eat a urinal cake, dude.

  28. I always carry a purse large enough for a paperback. When I go to the bathroom, the purse comes too. If I’m going to spend any amount of time in there, out comes the book 😉

  29. Bossy has to plan her entire day around peeing. She knows all the best public restrooms across three states.

  30. Wah hah hah. Now that I’m a SAHM, I can at least pee whenever I damn well please. But it always feels like it’s going to be a WHOOOOSH when it’s just a *trickle*. Especially when I get up 4-5 times a night. After I hoist my belly over the body pillow, stub my toe on the bed and waddle blindly to the throne, a mere thimble of pee is not rewarding.And with this pregnancy, have you developed a supersonic sneeze? I swear they are completely without warning and so fierce, it’s a wonder I haven’t soiled every chair in this house.

  31. I hear you sister. I’m only in trimester two and I feel like the chicks in accounting are getting tired of seeing me march back and forth and back and forth. I too know which stall is the last to get used in the morning. It is so satisfying to be the toilet’s “first.” Ah, putting down the seat and turning the blue water green.

  32. By the way, I meant to tell you that this is one of my favorite posts. Hilarious. Been there– and continue to go there every hour. I love it when Jamie comments on a post before I’ve even read it– he loved the part about the management-issued seat papers. We think that line is supposed to make you appreciate that the management is paying for these wonderful toilet accessories, so be thankful or we’ll take away the soap and the toilet paper.

  33. shortly after they cut me open, scooped out the baby, and then removed the catheter, i schleppd off to the loo and peed with horse-like intensity. my bladder was full, the release was bliss. best piss of my life.

  34. LOL! I know how you feel. I think I literally spent my entire pregnancies in the bathroom. When I wasn’t peeing I was puking….

  35. What anonymous said above, about hiding sudoko in her office bathroom, TOO FUNNY. Is there an ROFL award for commenters?Also, your feet? They shame me.

  36. You could start pedicuredmommypeeing.com, charge $19.95 a month, take pics, maybe some video and have yourself a nice little college fund for the young’ns.Think it over. Japanese businessmen in Tokyo would be all over this.

  37. You flashed me right back…. which is interesting considering that I had completely blocked out that aspect of the last leg of preggies. and then I remembered – oh yeah that’s how i got so much reading done that last month! i recommend a penguin classics – they even fit in the back jeans pocket. stretchy pregant hip mama jeans, too.

  38. Nice throne. That was the worse part of pregnancy for me. Especially when it would wake me in the middle of he night for a whole table spoon. Frustrating. Atleast your home back in the real throne.

  39. I remember those times. And I will think of you the next time I read the label on the seat covers!!!Hang in there, and hey, you toes look great for the 3rd trimester! I don’t think I could see in between mine when I was that far along! Carrie

  40. Only you could blog about toilets and peeing WITH PICTURES and make it entertaining, interesting and informative. Your pedicure looks fabulous!

  41. Oh my god, I just found your blog, but I think I love you. Madly. You’ve just blogged my life – my days look like that even when not pregnant! During my last pregnancy my husband actually asked me whether I ever had to pee while I was still peeing. (Sad answer: yes.)Off to add you to my favorites now…

  42. You are hilarious, woman. And look at your cute toes in those flip flops. When I was pregnant with Ryan I worked at a Credit Union with a somewhat formal dress code. By my third trimester, my feet had swollen up to holiday ham proportions, and I had to get a DOCTOR’S NOTE in order to be able to wear my tennis shoes to work.

  43. This is what I love about you, your willingness to document your bathroom visits. Thanks for reminding me of one of the reasons I am holding off getting pregnant again.

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