Can I Get A Frickin' Break? Or, Why Women Are Always Constipated

WARNING: This post probably contains TMI. But I still wanted to write it anyway. So if you don't care to hear about BM's, which will herein be referred to as crap, then discontinue reading.

I have the worst luck with having a crap. (You're about to close this window, aren't you? I'm not going to describe anything, don't worry. But go ahead and close it if you don't want to read more.) Its all because of my stupid schedule. At 6:00 am I get up every morning. By 7:00 I am greeting the first child that comes through the door. Then it's on to making lunches, making breakfasts, greeting more children and possibly (if I'm lucky) eating my own high fiber breakfast. I need the fiber because, well, you know what this post is about.
At some point during this busy morning, my body will start to call out to me to attend to certain needs. It's not often I can gratify those needs. Take today, for example. I finally have a bite to eat, look at the clock and stupidly assume I may actually have a few moments before the next kid shows up. I go upstairs, sit down and, damn, was that a knock?
Yes. Yes it was. I hoist my pants back up and run down the stairs trying to not look like I am extremely frustrated about this person showing up waaaaaaaay earlier than expected and crap-blocking me.
So I admit the new little person who is indeed, new. She is crying and wailing for her mama, so I can't possibly just dump her and run to, well, have a dump of my own.
So I wait, and my colon is saying, "Really?"
Not long after, I am having to take the children to school and upon return I once again check the clock. My colon is saying, "Yes, please do." But alas, the time shall not be now, for another child is due to arrive at any moment. My colon says, "Excuse me, but I've also got something due to arrive at any moment!" I anxiously peer out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of any car coming down the street, trying to time it out - even if they were at this moment driving down the street, I could still possibly have a whole minute to attend to business. I mean that's plenty of time isn't it?
My colon is now threatening me with legal action.
These people are late! Where are they? Don't they know I need to use the bathroom? How would they like it if I showed up at their house while they were mid-dump?
After the arrival of said child I try again to sneak away from the children for a moment's peace. I sit down and there is a cry from downstairs, "JENN!"
Crap!
Ok, I wish. I hastily do what I can with the three seconds I have before chaos ensues, and go back downstairs. My colon is not very relieved but has been slightly appeased for the moment. It grumbles at me, and I rub my tummy soothingly.
Later, the children are finally in bed for a nap, and although they aren't yet quiet I know that at least they are safe and separated (so they can't maul each other in my absence) and I can finally sit and get down to some business.
Grabbing my iPod, I head to my favourite retreat and relax on the throne.
Nothing is happening. My colon is saying, "You made me wait this long, so now I'm not going to cooperate! Hah! So there!"
However, I am finally getting to relax a bit so I stay where I am in hopes that my colon might change its mind. Just as I think things might be starting to move again, the phone rings.
Crap!
It turns out to be one of the parents calling me to inform me I needn't pick their child up from school today, they are going home with a friend. Good thing I answered the phone, that's need-to-know info.
I settle back into the bathroom again, and damnit, the phone rings again. This time, it's my dad, and he and I have a heart-to-heart. By the time the conversation is finished, my colon has packed its bags and is moving to Alaska. Or Hawaii. I don't know, it didn't leave a note.
I sigh as I look at the toilet.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll have better luck.