Three cups of coffee

I was thinking on the walk home from school this morning how each cup of coffee I consume in the morning has its own unique characteristic. Personality, even.

The first cup, for example, isn’t so much about taste, but rather a jolt. (No, that’s not right, I hate jolts, or rushing, or loud noises that early.) The first cup is like a lifeline. It gets consumed, almost gulped, and I can’t say I’m fully aware of its properties, however yummy they may be.

The second cup, usually sipped and savoured shortly after the first cup, has a much more prominent presence. You know what I mean? I can smell the lovely scent with my nose, I can feel the warmth of the cup with my hand, I can taste the full-bodied deliciousness on my tongue. I enjoy the second cup.

Unfortunately I cannot have a third cup until after the children are dropped off. The school is a 5-block walk one way, and by the time I return home 45 minutes later, my bladder, which, incidentally is the size of a coffee bean, cannot hold it any longer. Discomfort due to coffee is unpleasant.

So now I sit here with my freshly brewed third cuppa joe, and can once again feel the love.



Look. I’m a thirsty kinda gal. Ok? I drink my coffee, I drink my water, I drink my wine.


Given that I drink something all day, I tend to frequent the bathroom fairly often.


All that liquid in a tiny bladder abused by two bouncy babies while pregnant will do that to a woman.


So why is it that I can’t spend 60 seconds alone in that bathroom? WHY?

Take yesterday.

I had to pee. I glance around the house. Kids are playing together in another room, dog is fast asleep, Javadad is downstairs in the office.

A walk to the bathroom. I don’t hear the pitter patter of tiny feet or dog paws following me.

Happy joy…

The second I pull down my pants, the first one arrives. She analyzes the situation, then drags her potty closer to me and imitates my action.

20 seconds behind her is the 3yo. “Mommy, Sonja doesn’t want to play with me anymooooreee…”

Next I hear, then see the dog. He wants out. HIS bladder is the size of a prairie province and he was out less than an hour go. Why now?

Of course the family is still incomplete. Javadad has to pick THIS moment to ask me a question. “Where did you say the newspapers are?”

I mean, I spend the LEAST amount of time in the bathroom relatively speaking to the rest of the family and I don’t get 60 seconds of peace to have a pee.