Bae, bae, bae…

I am getting old. I kept seeing this word show up on social media #bae and yes, I had no idea what it meant. So of course I googled it:

“Bae,” Urban Dictionary says, is an acronym that stands for “before anyone else,” or a shortened version of baby or babe, another word for sweetie, and, mostly unrelated, poop in Danish. Jul 25, 2014

Okay. I get the “before anyone else” and I also actually love that it is also “poop” in Danish. How do these urban words start? This one is also in the name of a Pharrell Williams song: “Come Get It Bae.” I guess I missed that one when it came out. I tried to listen to it as I wrote this blog post and it did nothing for me. In the last year there have been articles from Esquire and Time, and many other online magazines asking the same question I am, only I am a year too late.

I am definitely getting old. I am not one to call Chris my baby or babe anyways, so maybe that is another reason it does not strike me, and yes I am no longer in my twenties. Over time I have come to the realization that I am a: “say-what-you-mean-in-a-direct-way” kind of woman. Just say it. Just like you mean it. No fluff. No shortened social media acronym. Why should I try to guess what you mean? Am I making myself any younger?

Maybe I will just resort to using it when I tell Chris “I need to bae, bae” aka: “I need to poop, babe.” Let him figure out what I mean. Ha.

I pooped my pants at Safety Town

There have been a few times in my life that I have pooped my pants. I will tell you right now that it was not always as a child. As an adult, my poopy pants stories revolve around “Smooth Move” tea. My advice to you is to NEVER drink it. It is like a laxative that you cannot get out of your system… for days. Anyways, this is not about adult poopy pants. I was young, before elementary school, but I do not remember exactly how old I was. I am sure my sister can remember.

We were at Safety Town with the local Parks District. I do not remember if my sister was there for Safety Town or if she was my chaperone. Regardless, I vaguely remember that she did not want to be there in the least. Generally speaking I got very excited about Safety Town. They turned tennis courts into regular streets and sidewalks. There were stop signs, traffic lights, and bike lanes. We had a mini city all to ourselves from behind the daring excitement of our tricycles. For whatever reason I thought it was the coolest thing. Almost as though my tricycle was a car, and we got to be adults. There were even awards and trophies. Who knows why, but I LOVED Safety Town.

Except for the time when I pooped my pants.

You would have thought it was a regular I-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom moment. Yet, it wasn’t. I pooped my pants from absolute fear. This specific day was when the police, ambulance, and firefighters were coming to visit. They would take us onto the trucks and teach us about the apparatus. Except for me. I was scared shitless. There was always something eerie to me about an ambulance (scariest vehicle) and a fire truck (next scariest). In my mind they were going to help someone who was hurt, sick, or dead, or something was on fire. I did not like thinking about the number of sirens I heard daily and how many people needed help. I also thought that if I went inside the ambulance that I might not be allowed to leave. I have no idea where I got that idea. The Safety Town folks did their best to assure me, as well as my sister, but I was definitely not going into those vehicles. I got so scared, I pooped my pants.

My sister was not thrilled. I do not remember what happened after that and if I got into trouble for my scared-shitless actions. I am almost positive my parents did not ever understand my predicament, or even talk to me about it. I think they just thought I had an accident. Yet, I still remember it so clearly. Regardless, I continued to go to Safety Town and enjoyed the make-believe world of our tricycle town.

And, I still have a moment of pause when I hear an ambulance or firetruck. No, I don’t pee or poop myself, but I do think about those in need of help and hope all is well.

I’m only speeding because I have to poop.

I was the kid on the road trip that constantly whined: “Dad, I have to go to the bathroom.” Sometimes there was an urgency that my father did not share with me. Maybe I have a small bladder, but I struggled to be able to hold it in for a long period of time. At times I think my dad was frustrated with me and the constant hourly announcement that I needed to bless a gas station or rest area with my presence. Maybe it is a girl thing, but when I have to go, I have to go. As a kid I know my father’s impatience with me occasionally meant I missed my window. Yes, I am going where you think I am going. I had a few “I pooped my pants” moments. You know you all had those moments as a kid. For those of you that are parents, if your kid tells you they have to go, just trust them.

On our way home from work the other day, I took a photo of this great bumper sticker that says: “I’m only speeding because I have to poop.” If I was a woman who cared to cover her car in bumper stickers (I am not one of those women), this would be on my bumper. I cannot tell you how many times I have headed to the airport in the wee hours of the morning only to think, “Crap, I gotta go. Where the hell am I going to stop?”

Apologies for the grainy photo. It was taken through the windshield.

As you read this, you might be thinking, wow, Tami will talk about anything, and yes, there are a lot of things I will talk about, but I have to say why is pooping and farting so taboo? We all do it, so why is it such a big deal? At the end of the day, I can imagine that all of us have sped because we had to poop. It is just that some of us will admit it and others will not.

So where do you stand on the subject?

Squatty Potty

I know, I know… I somehow frequently bring up potty talk, but this time I could not resist. Last week I came across a Fast Company article about a new device called “Squatty Potty.” For those of you without kids, please keep reading as it is actually not a potty for training little ones. It is a potty for us all. I am including a video below that explains the process in full. The gist, in case you do not watch it, is this. For those of us that live in the western world, we sit on a nice porcelain vessel that allows for excrement to quickly flush away. What we have lost sight of is the best way for our bodies to shit it all out.

The Squatty Potty is a step stool of sorts that allows your feet to basically be the same height as your butt. When we sit normally on a toilet we are at a 90 degree angle, the Squatty Potty shifts your body to a 35 degree angle (see their website for illustrations). The way we sit on a toilet impacts our puborectalis muscle, and does not allow it to relax. By ensuring our body is in more of a squatting position, the puborectalis muscle is relaxed, allowing for ease in the pooping realm. Who knew!? I am fascinated.

Before I go out and buy one, I made a makeshift one yesterday out of 2 shoe boxes. If after a few days of trial I see amazing results, I might purchase the three pack. So beware future guests, you might just wonder why there is a “Squatty Potty” in your bathroom. It will be my treat to you.