Updates and a Funny Story

Somewhat boring updates:


Well, it's about time that I posted something; especially since every time I check this blog I notice how the baby counter is ticking closer and closer to one month.  Yikes.  We have been extremely busy lately.  The Billings Ovulation Method (BOM) teaching has taken off; and, at the same time, I am updating my accreditation by retaking the BOM correspondence course.  Sometimes I wonder if this is all too much, but then little confirmations telling me that I am on the right path come my way.  Studying and teaching while mothering five little ones and awaiting the arrival of the sixth is a new experience, to say the least.  I think, though, that my brain is appreciating the challenge and, hopefully, rising to it.

That aside, the weather is moving steadily toward spring with only one snow day last week!  Jacob is attending his first chess tournament today at the school where Dave previously taught.  Other than chess, the highlight of the tournament is the hotdog lunch.  Hannah is counting the days until summer vacation and the donning of shorts and flip-flops.  Ben's 6th birthday is quickly approaching (next Wednesday) and he is anticipating a camouflage-themed day.  (Camo was never a theme of my childhood; but, living in Barry's Bay, an affinity for camo shouldn't be surprising.)  Joseph has developed a new fascination with scissors and cardboard.  He spends the better part of each day cutting up cardboard (found in the recycling box) and fashioning it into necklaces, hang-gliders and finger puppets using packing tape and his own innovation.  Isaac is enjoying his last month as the baby and literally running into childhood.

And, how is the baby?  This pregnancy has been unlike any other pregnancy that I have experienced.  I have had contractions on and off since 32 weeks and spent a few hours late last night pacing the floor waiting for my uterus to calm down and allow me to sleep.  I have never had painful contractions prior to real labour in any of my other pregnancies so perhaps this baby will make an early appearance - most likely not.  I feel very ready to have this baby as she is positioned very low and I am increasingly uncomfortable.  Dave has told me that I have to wait until June as he has too much marking!

And now that the mundane updates are over, I will tell you a funny story.

Funny Story:

Last Sunday was First Communion Sunday at our church.   After mass, Joseph was desperate to use the bathroom and, since I have entered that stage of pregnancy at which urgency and bathroom are synonymous, I volunteered to take him.  Now, our church is an old church and the bathrooms are in the basement.  The men's washroom is located closest to the outside door and the women's is down a set of stairs, around a few dark corners and tucked into the corner of the basement dining hall.  I don't like going there.  It is too far way, too isolated and, frankly, scary.  So, I tend to use the men's washroom which, rest assured, is always abandoned and feels a lot safer.  Besides, I always have a little boy with me in order to validate my admission.  Also, please don't picture a modern bathroom, the sort that has stalls with metal doors outside of which people wait their turn.  No, this bathroom has an ill-fitted wooden door that swells with humidity and, if one closes it, one can assume that the next user will wait outside in the hall.  But remember what the bartender on Cheers always said about making assumptions:  ass (out of) u (and) me.

I usually run down to the basement to use the bathroom immediately after Communion under the guise of removing Isaac from mass.  The bathroom is not only abandoned but also pitch dark and, at first entry, I am cast into a subterranean blindness that makes me glad to have a male in toe, even if he is under three feet tall.  Now, for some reason, on Sunday I discounted the fact that the basement was filled with people attending the First Communion reception:  a good majority of those people men who needed to relieve themselves.   So, I rushed into the bathroom with both Joseph and Jacob and made sure that the outside door was firmly shut.  Joseph went to use the toilet in the stall and I followed him in case he needed help.  I also locked the door to the stall just in case someone happened to wander into the outer washroom uninvited.  After Joseph finished, I took a turn.  And this is where things went wrong.

Joseph decided that waiting for his mother was not an option; so, he crawled under the door and escaped out of the washroom leaving the outer wooden door wide open thus inviting in the men waiting outside in the hall.  And in they came.  A feeling of panic came over me as I peered under the stall door to see not one but four sets of men's shoes and one pair of little boy shoes either waiting for the stall or using the urinals along the wall.

I tried to calmly assess the situation rationalising that I could perhaps wait it out in the stall as there couldn't be that many men who needed to use the facilities.  I underestimated the bladders of the church's male population.  Not only were they many but they were full.  I began to wonder if anyone was confused by the red leather shoes that were visible under the door of the stall.  I reasoned that this pair of shoes were not decidedly feminine but could have easily been worn by an Italian male.  The men of Barry's Bay aren't that familiar with the bathroom habits of Italian males, so, perhaps they would accept that this particular Italian felt a great need to remain sequestered in his stall.

But then I remembered that Dave was waiting outside in the van with the five kids who were growing hungrier by the minute.  I decided that I had to act.  I weighed my options:
a.  Simply make a run for it while looking in the completely opposite direction of the urinals.
b.  Knock on the stall door and timidly say, "Ummm, excuse me..."
c.  Gather my confidence and boldly proclaim, "There seems to have been a mistake."

I was forced into action by yet another set of feet at the adjacent urinal accompanied by a pair of little-boy running shoes.  The little boy was clearly too short to use the urinal without a great deal of help and my motherly heart felt for him as I heard his father ask, "Do you want me to hold you up?"  I decided that I needed to act before the little boy was suspended above the urinal.  So, I chose a combination of b and c and semi-confidently said, "Ummm, excuse me but I was helping my son and now I'm stuck in the bathroom and I was wondering if I could maybe get out without embarrassing anyone."  Or something like that.

I could only assess the men's reactions by the flurry of feet that began to move, belts that started to jingle and flies that were quickly zippered to the accompaniment of nervous coughs and laughs.  And then I said, "Is everybody ready?"  Again, nervous laughter, coughs, a few yups and a loud giggle from my oldest son who (unbeknownst to me) was still waiting at the door, "Oh, Mom."  Buoyed by Jacob's presence, I opened the door and bolted for the hallway grabbing Jacob as I ran and mumbling, "The son I was helping was much younger than this one..."  The only face that I distinctly remember is that of one of the men who had recently attended the marriage prep that Dave and I facilitated.

And that's my story.  Yes, I will think twice about where I empty my bladder from now on.  No, I didn't see anything x-rated.  Yes, First Communion Sunday was a lot more exciting than some parishioners bargained for.