|no time to relax....|
Although usually told under the guise of friendly advice, it seemed that sometimes the intent was more malevolent (think Mr. Burns from The Simpsons… “Excellent”). These types of stories usually started with, “Just wait until [enter bizarre previously unknown event here]”.
“Just wait until your baby projectile vomits!” one Mom of four screeched (with glee?).
“Just wait until your toddler says something wildly inappropriate about the person in front of you in the checkout line!” chortled a kind faced grandmother. “Just wait until your baby refuses to sleep through the night for eighteen months!” said a tired mother of (oh wait a minute – that one was me long AFTER Little Guy was born).
You know what NOBODY told me? That I would never EVER have another private moment in my bathroom for the rest of my life. Okay, that “for the rest of my life” part may be an overstatement, but it certainly sums up how I’ve been feeling lately.
There was a time (not so long ago), when my bathroom (and the tub in particular) was my refuge. It offered me the comfort and solace that I needed if life was at all stressful. My idea of a relaxing way to unwind after a rough day? A long soak in a bubble bath with some Miles Davis or Billie Holiday playing in the background and a stack of Martha Stewart Living magazines stacked beside the tub.
The steam filled room (smelling of jasmine and vanilla) became my very own Fortress of Solitude – a place where I could rebound and recharge, before emerging a brand new woman.
Calgon, did indeed, ‘take me away’ from it all.
Sadly, this is no longer the case. All privacy went out the window as soon as Little Guy became mobile. He doesn’t for a minute understand that Mommy might want a bit of “alone time”. A door is made to be opened. If I am lucky enough to be in a bathroom with a functioning lock, he stands outside, relentlessly pounding on the door. “MOM, what are you doing NOW?!!” he yells over and over. Calgon doesn’t make bubble bath potent enough to make that a relaxing environment.
My dear hubby does offer to take the boys and give me time alone, but even that doesn’t work anymore. If I have a half hour to myself at home, I feel obligated to clean the house, empty the dishwasher, or put away laundry, etc. Laying in a bathtub (when unfinished household chores are lurking just beyond the bathroom wall) would be the opposite of relaxing, no matter how many magazines there are to flip through.
This past Saturday was rough. Little Guy is potty training, and we were having a battle of wills regarding that. In addition, Baby Boy was cranky with his first ear infection. I was behind with housework (typical these days), and just having a frustrating day all around. Hubby could tell things were rough, and so he took matters into his own hands. He hustled us all into the car, drove to a nearby bookstore which I love, handed me some cash and (with a genuine supportive smile) said, “I’m taking the boys to the toy store. We’ll be back in an hour.” You may be thinking that an hour isn’t much…but you’d be wrong. It was exactly the break I needed, and it allowed me to clear my head in the same way that those long bubble baths did years ago.
When my men returned, I was able to greet them with a big smile of my own, feeling refreshed and recharged (and with a few new books tucked under my arm). So maybe I won’t get any alone time in my bathroom for a decade or so… at least I’ve learned that Calgon isn’t the only thing that can take me away.
My message to expectant mothers everywhere:
“Just wait till your husband shows you how much he loves you by braving Toys R Us with a three year old and an infant, just so you can have an hour in a used book store”.