A sentiment of gratitude for indoor plumbing and washing machines.
In my younger years, I often dreamed of times gone by and wondered if I would prefer to live in a different era. Perhaps you know what I mean? We yearn for the age of romantic gestures, chivalry, and– of course— that fabulous wardrobe. It’s why Downton Abbey, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre are entertainment phenomenons.
However truthfully, we women live in our romantic day dream just about until our actual courting phase is over, our wedding is a distant memory, and reality fosters a serious appreciation for the convenience that modern amenities afford us.
Although my eyes were opened years ago, nothing has solidified my affinity for indoor plumbing and washing machines like pregnancy (…and I suspect an infant will only reaffirm this). Instead of day-dreaming about white horses and flowy gowns, I imagine the treachery that women faced making 6 trips per night (if they were lucky) out the front door, down the path, and around the corner to the outhouse EVERY TIME NATURE CALLED. I thank Jesus for toilet paper and indoor plumbing each visit I make to the ladies room— and let’s be honest, at 8 months pregnant I’ve earned my frequent flyer miles.
A year ago I would have described the simplicity of Amish life as romantic and inspiring. Not anymore. I’ve been introduced to a profound new appreciation for my washing machine: the pregnancy cough and/or sneeze. It’s bad enough when it sneaks up on you out of the blue in public, but try South Texas Cedar season when allergens are thick as oxygen particles, and, well… game over for your social life. I respect those Amish women deeply, but there’s no way they have enough changes of clothing to keep up with 5-7 sneezes minimum per day. At least 65% of you exactly what I’m talking about, but for those who have not experienced this little joy of pregnancy, I’m going to fill you in now. Don’t worry, you’ll still experience countless pregnancy surprises and wonder with befuddlement why NO ONE WARNED YOU.
Along with the glowing skin, radiant hair, and darling baby bump, comes a less than delightful “side effect” known as leaky bladder. (Some of you are screaming TMI, but I’m going there anyway.) To lay it all out there— the growing baby on your bladder plus the weakened muscles that support it mean that your nifty little bladder shut-off valve isn’t quite what it used to be. Now the pressure of a sneeze or cough is enough to cause that valve to completely and epic-ly fail, expelling varying amounts of fluid… oh what the heck… pee. It’s pee, girls. We’re all adults here, right?
So what am I saying? Lady Mary Crawley, you are extraordinary. I love your family, your
house castle, your wardrobe, and I will watch Downton Abbey until the cows come home and sigh at the grandeur of it all. But when it’s over, I will happily use my flushable toilet that is 20 steps away, lay down on my TempurPedic mattress, and thank Jesus for giving me life in 1981 so I could enjoy my indoor plumbing and my washing machine.
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