You Know What I Really Miss?

My bathroom.  It’s not that I don’t visit the bathroom often.  It’s not like I haven’t taken a shower in a while. But what was once a sanctuary, a place to go and unwind and relax, is now simply a drive-thru.  And well, I want my peaceful little place back.

My mother has said for years that she hasn’t gone to the bathroom by herself for decades.  My siblings and I have always thought she was joking.  We used to get so irritated with her as she would holler at us from behind the bathroom door.  She still does this.  When asked why she can’t just wait to talk to us after she’s exited the john?  Because we would just interrupt her alone time anyways.  I never understood this until I became a mother.

You see, while we were growing up, my sister and brother and I (just 5 years apart between the three of us) could not possibly have waited until Mommy had flushed to get help with our homework or whether we could spend the night at a friends house or to have her get our toy back from our brother/sister.  All of these things were far more pressing than Mom having a private moment in the most private of all rooms of the house.  I remember it got to a point where she wouldn’t even close the door anymore.  She knew she would get barged in on so she left the door open and conducted her private business while negotiating with three little terrorists children.  Thankfully she began mostly closing the door when we became teenagers, but there was always a crack open just in case.

Which brings me to my current dilemma.  I can’t think of the last time I shut the door completely when I went into the bathroom.  Not to shower, not to pee, not to take a shit.  I caught myself the other day home alone with Cedella.  I had just put her down upstairs for a nap and gone into the bathroom.  I guess I hadn’t thought about the fact that Michael would be coming home for work, but when the front door opened and closed with the obligatory slam (my husband is a bit heavy-handed with doors)  I panicked and tried to lean over and close the bathroom door.  For a proper visual, let’s picture this:  my pants are around my ankles, there is an iPhone perched precariously on my ‘lap’ and the door is wide open, it’s handle probably four feet away.  I lean with all my might and am able to wiggle my way off the seat enough to grab the handle without getting any of my clothing wet and closing the door mere seconds before my lovely husband gets to the top of the stairs.  Whew!  That was close.

It was after that panicked moment that I realized what my Mom was going through.  I thought of the way I have begun showering with one ear open and without a bit of enjoyment, and of course with all the lovely steam escaping through the fully open door.  How I used to think of the toilet as my own little reading nook.  Many a novel had been finished, giving me that funny red ring around the cheeks, on the porcelain throne.  It seems normal that this is no longer a private act, that the only alone time I have in the bathroom comes in the middle of the night.  But why did I freak when Michael almost busted me with the door open the other day?  It was like for five minutes, the old Me came out.  Single, childless, self-absorbed Me.  The Me that would NEVER dream of leaving the door open while washing my hands let alone doing my duty (pun intended).  It’s not that I have some kind of complex, I just think bathroom stuff isn’t sexy and really doesn’t need to be shared with the person you’re sleeping with (even if they are your husband).

That seemed to have changed when I got pregnant and has been completely obliterated since we’ve had Cedella.  During my first trimester when I constantly felt like puking and could bust out a SBD (silent but deadly) without warning, the bathroom door was being used too much to be closed.  After that, the frequent pit stops of a shrinking bladder kept the door open.  Then we moved into our new house with a bathroom on each floor and both of us felt the luxury of not having to wait for a stall to open up.  Plus the door doesn’t really close all the way anyways (damn 1920’s house).  And inevitably as soon as I’m alone in the shower Michael can’t find his hat or Cedella needs to be nursed.  Or there’s any manner of question that needs to be answered immediately the second I pull my pants down.  Or there’s a little monkey in a bouncy seat directly across from me as I try to hurry up and slap some spackle on my face and perhaps run my fingers through my hair before she gets bored.

Either way and for whatever reason I feel that the era of lengthy visits to the commode has officially ceased and I am grieving the end.  So until my child(ren) leave the nest I will be dreaming of a huge marble tiled room with soft lighting and a soaker tub with candles and Lush bath bombs everywhere.  A vintage vanity with a big round mirror and a petite little stool for me to perch on as I paint my face.  A steam shower with a built-in bench where a woman can sit down to shave her legs.  Or more realistically a quiet room with a door that shuts, a big old roll of double ply and a juicy paperback.  A mama can dream, no? But until then, one girl rules the salle de bain…

My little bathing beauty

P.S. I consulting with my husband on this post he thought that ‘dropping the kids off at the pool’ and ‘dropping it like it’s hot’ weren’t very ladylike.  Yet ‘taking a shit’ and ‘doing my duty’ were perfectly acceptable.  WTF?!  It was a pretty hilarious conversation.

Comments

  1. Tracey Sims says:

    I like "taking the Browns to the Superbowl." The only time I ever refernce football on puprose is when I relate it to shitting.

  2. Tracey Sims says:

    Nice spelling just then. Ugh.

  3. Eliza says:

    Who are we kidding….our little girls don't just rule the salle se bain, the rule the whole roost!!! LOL!

  4. Teresha@Marlie and Me says:

    "doing my duty"…LOL! Long, hot showers used to be my moment of zen. *sigh*

  5. Alexia says:

    Tre – that is so subtle ; )

    Eliza – so true! I don't have any space thar isn't Cedella's at this point. Even my closet!! lol

    Teresha – How I long for hot showers!!

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