Poppin up on Google

Thanks for the love friends. We now show up on Google. In my best 90's Britney voice, Hit me baby - one more time. It's the little things in life.

Interesting side note, we pop up between two erectile dysfunction sites. Ummm...accidently stumbling upon our site is obviously a big fat win for their potential customers. Our site could essentially benefit them in a couple ways. Firstly, these men clearly could use a laugh which we freely offer and usually at our own expense. And secondly, our issues may make their's seem a bit smaller. No pun intended. (Some may even suggest that some of our topics (I.B.S.) are way worse than E.D. Though I'm pretty sure they're very much not.)

Bravo to me on the whole branding thing. I really knew what I was doing there.

I Almost Went Potty in My Pants.

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So, I said I would elaborate on the whole almost going potty in my pants during our vaca incident. So here goes.

(My children hate that I speak so self-deprecatingly about myself in a public forum. They're about to become a lot more disturbed about this particular share session.)

I don't think a more serious situation has ever developed in our vehicle. The grave atmosphere in our mini-van would've suggested that we were traveling to a funeral. (And so would the speed in which my husband was driving.)

Let me first say that I know, to some degree, that you know how I felt. Everyone has needed a restroom like RIGHT NOW at some point in their life. My situation may be a little more serious with the whole IBS and what-not. (Irritable Bowel Syndrome which I have never been medically diagnosed with except I know I have it and I am my own best doctor.) This is like the twelfth time we've experienced a near miss of this nature. But never have I been as white-knuckled as I was during this narrow escape. I mean I was squeezing so hard my ass was having spasms. (And that is NOT an exaggeration.)

When my husband refused to pass the red car creeping along at a slow crawl in front of us, I was pelvic thrusting in the air, arm braced to the ceiling and beginning my apology speech to my children. "I CANNOT. I am so sorry! I'm not going to be able to hold it. I mean I am so embarrassed. Please don't be mad at me." This is where my husband began to get fidgety. And sweaty. 

Bless his heart. He was very nervous. When I asked him about it later, he was like, "I mean there was just no where to go. I kept thinking, no no no...the smell." His finger braced on the window button.

Then I saw the condo complex. But I was confused. Was I happy or scared? I didn't know if I could stand or walk at all without a catastrophe. Could I? So I started prepping my daughter. "Give her the key! Give her the keys!" I have never felt a greater urgency in my entire life. As the car came to a stop I was cheering her on as if she was running the last leg of a marathon. "Go! Go! Go!!!! Ruuuuuuun! Holy Mother of Mary!" And she sprinted like a champ. I've never seen those legs move faster. And then she yelled. "I'm in, Mom!" Ahh, music to my ears as I scooted along behind her.

That night was bad. And I was miserable.

I felt that sharing my story may help someone, somewhere. And yes, I do understand that I am not the ambassador for IBS, FAMILY! Maybe I should be. We sufferers need to stand together. (though maybe not too closely and maybe there should be like a million port-a-potties.)

IBS Sufferers Unite!!

I've lost my mind. And like 3 pounds.

Ahh, Sweet Vacation and Other Crazy Things

I'mmm baaack.

Ahh, Vacation. It's always a sweet experience for our family. And this trip was no exception.  

I learned that though I have not been officially diagnosed with IBS. It's as good as fact. In addition, I learned that when my IBS kicks into high gear, my husband gets very fidgety and nervous...but still deems it unsafe to pass in the "no pass" zone. If nearly shitting my pants doesn't do it, nothing is going to make this man break traffic laws. More about this on a different day.

Somehow in the last year, I have also picked up the nervous habit of grabbing the car ceiling and lifting my right leg to the dash when my husband is traveling at a high rate of speed toward the back of a stopped car on the interstate. And he has picked up the habit of becoming very pissed off about my new habit. At one point he yelled, "how many times have I run into the back of a car!?!" Which, I felt, was a good question. So I responded with, "I don't know? How many?" To which he responded, "One time!" To which I responded, "Why would that be your redeeming argument?!? You can't ask that and then have run into the back of a car. Ever." Wow.
I don't have a good explanation for my behavior other than his driving skills must've fallen off at some point.

But through all of the dysfunction, I learned that my husband still fills up my heart and makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. I love my kids and think they're brilliant. And I love the sunny weather. It makes me a better person.