Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Once Upon a Shower

Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away (oh wait, I'm mixing my references)... Let me start over.

I remember how much I used to love showers. Long, hot showers. Nothing but peace, quiet and soap suds. Just me and the gentle spray of water. There was exfoliating. There were salt scrubs. There was awful singing. There was time to lather, rinse and repeat. Sigh. Those were the days.

Those days are long gone and forgotten. Now, in the 6.25 minutes I manage to eek out in the morning, the door is opened and closed approximately 14 times with the most ridiculous requests you can imagine. I even lopped off a mosquito bite in my haste to finish shaving this morning. OUCH!

Suddenly, my 4 year old can no longer distinguish between pants and a shirt as she's attempting to get dressed.

My 2 year old came in to tattle that his sister was "saying something to him".

"My bow is undone."

"I don't like this show."

"Can you help me get a toy out of the closet?" Really?! Now?! Do I look like I'm in any condition to come get something out of the closet?! I'm naked, wet and soapy. What part of this looks like I'm ready to leap to your aid?

What I really don't get is, I am not an indulgent parent. I don't retie bows when I'm in the shower. I don't rush to help her distinguish between her shirt and her pants. And I can say, with absolute certainty, that I've never gotten out of the shower to get a toy from the closet. As a matter of fact, I'm just about as sarcastic with them as I am being right now. It's REALLY wasted on them, though.

What I mean is? Where's the precedence? They've been my kids for 4 and 2 years, respectively. You'd think they'd get some idea of how this work by now.

I don't think they are watching any crazy June-cleaver moms on TV. My mom and my husband indulge them a bit more than I do but still not to that extent. So where is this unwavering trust in me coming from?

Maybe it's built in. Maybe they come complete with unyielding reliance in their genetics.

The scary part is, as I gaze into my mommy crystal ball, I see no end in site. In a few years it's going to be the same interruptions, for different reasons.

"I can't find my math book."

"I need to blow dry my hair."

"Do I have soccer practice after school today?"

"Mom, did you take my pink lip gloss?"

What can I do? Nothing. I can complain about it. I can endlessly repeat myself and tell them to leave me alone when I'm in the shower but it won't stop. For whatever reason, precedence be damned, they need me. At all times. Maybe I just exude a mom-ness that makes them ever faithful that I'll always be there for them. And that's a good thing. Because I will be. Always. Apparently, even when I'm taking a shower.


  1. Same thing here! Plus I feel like a contortionist trying to keep the shower liner closed since Lucas refuses to let me shower in peace. He thinks I'm taking a shower, so he must too. Cruises along the tub in between the curtain and liner trying to lunge in.
    Glad to hear I'm not alone!