::there was this one time, at band camp::

:photo source:

i mean, baptist hospital, when this happened....

remember when i told you about baby girl being in the NICU?
those hospital walls were closing in on us. besides sleeping in a shoebox- a small room that held a twin bed and a chair and that was it- we had a good night and decided to venture out for lunch. i knew i had to pee before i left the hospital and planned to use the restroom when we arrived at the restaurant.

did i mention it was valentines day?

so we get to the restaurant and i ask the waitress for the restroom and proceed to sit down, eat my lunch and never go. i remember as we are leaving the restaurant thinking, i'll go when we get back to the hospital.

did i mention i had a baby four days earlier?

we get back to the hospital and have to park further away from the entrance than we had before. no big deal. we get out of the van and my sweet husband needs to get something out of his suitcase and he takes foreeeeeeeeeeever. i even make the comment, "remember when i said i had to pee, before we got to the restaurant? yep, still need to." he rolled his eyes at my sarcasm that often comes out as just plain mean and we started off through the parking deck.

he was being funny or something along the way, he's like that. we laugh a lot togther. that's probably why we are so happy and in love. well that and grace, tons of grace.

anyways, he was making me laugh and i told him to stop. and i felt it coming. i stopped, crossed my legs as tight as i could while he continued walking not noticing what was about to take place. i pulled tight any muscle that would submit but alas, all were worn slap out from the birth of baby number three and refused to assist in my deepest time of need.  

the flood gates opened and yes folks, i wet my pants right there in the parking lot of baptist hospital. i'm not talking a little wet either. i'm talking down my legs to my shoes kind of wet. i know, gross.
jacob walks towards me laughing, cause really who wouldn't laugh at a grown woman soaking herself in public, but i start crying. hysterically, post pardum, dear-god-why kind of crying. and....here's the best part....due to horomones, that's my story and i'm sticking to it, i got mad at him. it was afterall his fault. he was being funny. come on!!!

he took it well, in silence. no retaliation to the crazy.

did i mention we give each other a lot of grace?

i dug out clean pajama pants and underwear from the suitcase in the van and my sweet husband bought me a pair of brand-spankin'-new RED toms. happy valentine's day to me. i then put my toms on with my red polkadot pajama pants and marched myself into ann taylor to buy a pair of pants. yep, in. my.pajamas.

finally able to laugh about the whole ordeal and realizing how horomonally-pyscho i was, told my sweet fella i was super sorry and we kissed and made up.

ahhhh married life.
grace. grace. all is grace.