Here is this week’s column. My mother was slightly horrified that I had this published, and after running into a few people up here in WA who read it, and then staring them in the face, I’m slightly horrified myself. TMI, Annie, TMI.

“The only thing worse than slow pregnant bowels, are slow pregnant bowels on vacation.

Two days ago we made the 14 plus hour drive to my mama’s house up in Washington, courtesy of the middle of the night and a few 5-hour-energy drinks, which I do not recommend to those of you who are pregnant. There’s a reason why they warn you on the label.

For the past two days I’ve enjoyed all the benefits of farm life–with the exception of the bathroom. While the rest of me seems to be reveling in the comfort of having my mommy help with the kids, my bowels have been a little slow to adjust.

In order to get things moving while still attempting to watch my rapidly expanding waist line, I have been “snacking” on pitted prunes. We all know that they’re known for their bathroom inspiring sweetness, and I’ve been tossing those babies down like cupcakes.

So earlier in the week Mr. City Boy and I decided to take the kids to the river. Rivers are great; they’re free, and your kids can throw rocks without getting yelled at (much). We took a little back highway and made our way to a well-known boat launch.

Just as we were pulling into the beautiful lush river area, something about the entire experience moved me. Unfortunately, the movement didn’t happen in my soul, but a little closer to my pants.

That’s right, we were in the middle of nowhere with a car full of kids dying to experience the joys of country life, and all I could think about was whether or not I could get Junie’s pull-up on in time.

I dumped the family off, my husband looking like a stranded puppy left alone with a litter of playful kittens, and jumped in the driver’s seat. Heading back toward civilization, all I could think about was the little mini-mart we’d passed. Please, I thought, tell me they have more than beef jerky and tackle.

Breezing through the doorway with my best “just stopping by for a candy bar” expression, I smiled at the lady behind the counter. I’d called my sister from the car to get the rundown on the establishment, and she wasn’t very confident that they’d let me use the loo.

I casually walked toward the candy aisle, trying to look hungry and not at all panicked. Have you ever needed to use the bathroom so badly you wanted to die, then suddenly experienced your four and a half pound baby literally kicking your guts out? I did an about face.

“Hi!” I said with not a little touch of terror. “Before I make my purchase, I was wondering if you knew of a bathroom in the area I could use.” Now, this last statement was made as I turned sideways and rubbed my enormous belly and back at the same time, hoping to wring a little pregnant sympathy from her.

Then the angels smiled down from Heaven and she pointed toward the back.

I’m pretty convinced the bathroom had once been an outhouse they attached to the rest of the building with a small hallway, after adding a flushing toilet. No bathroom has ever been prettier.”


  1. Basically anything with the line “in my pants” is the funniest thing ever.

  2. Oh man, I have sooo been there!

    I especially loved that part about how the scenery “moved you.” Hilarious!

    Love you!

  3. Maybe TMI, but we all need the laugh. And the knowledge that it happens to everybody. 🙂

  4. Laughed out loud reading the part about borrowing a pull up. Too funny. One time I sharted in my pants in the middle of the grocery store. It was 5:30am and the only people in the store, to witness my olympic 200 yard dash from the cracker isle to the bathroom, were a few lonely workers stalking the shelves. Graciously, they did their best to ignore the 9 month pregnant woman practically having a seizure, trying to get to the loo. So embarrassing.

  5. Dear Sweet Annie… I totally understand!

  6. Hmm, prunes. You can’t trust ’em. They’re vindictive little buggers. They wait for the worst possible time to get things going. My son is also a slow mover and prunes unfortunately make a frequent appearance on his breakfast menu. Let’s just say that a pull up doesn’t stand a chance against the wrath of the prunes. And leave it at that. TMI baby, TMI!

  7. Okay, I am at a cross of ‘slightly horrified’ and ‘the best writing ever.’ I can imagine talking with you and having this conversation and it being totally normal, but I hear ya on seeing people face to face and knowing they read the column. (That’s where the slightly horrified comes into play). I’ll be interested to hear what Baumie has to say, she reads you faithfully.

    However you shake it, that was crazy funny/we’ve all been there. Love ya for it 🙂

  8. I think we pregnant women have a right to publish anything that may be a bit TMI! I, myself, am working on a blog post dedicated to my large and irritating hemorrhoid! I feel your pain, girl! 😀

  9. When you have a shoddy colon (me) you learn bowel movements you become unfazed by discussing it with just about anyone. More people (dr’s) have explored my nether regions and done unspeakable tests that I just choose to not worry about it anymore. Fish oil pills are pretty good at keeping you going as well 🙂 Just don’t mind the fish burps.

  10. You wrote about your bowels. Honestly, you are SO pregnant.

  11. This made me laugh! When you are pregnant, eventually all thoughts of modesty escape you at some point! Its things like this that let other pregnant woman know they are not alone 😛