Lost luxuries: the solitary shower

One thing I never realized was a luxury until I had to live without it: The ability to shower by one’s self, all alone in the bathroom (or, if desired, to shower with the adult intimate partner of one’s choosing – with the key word being ‘choosing!’).

Today, I was granted that rare luxury of a solitary shower, though my enjoyment was tempered with the fear that Will would return from the store while I was still in the bathroom, because then he might come in to tell me what he bought, and he would set Mellow down, and she would hold onto the side of the bathtub and hit at the shower curtain. Fortunately, that didn’t happen, and I was able to have one shower to myself, the first in over a month.

Here’s how my showers usually go:

If it is a day when Wildling is at school (three glorious days per week), then Mellow is in the bathroom in her walker, and I have to occasionally talk to her so she knows I didn’t disappear. Mellow will babble and make noise, but rarely cries, unless she happens to poop, in which case she will cry until I jump out to change her diaper. On Mellow days, when I step out of the shower, it’s like a minefield strewn with cereal (magic baby distracting cereal) that crunches underfoot and needs to be swept up before it attracts silverfish.

On weekdays when Wildling doesn’t have school, then both girls end up in the bathroom, even though I tell Wildling to play in the playroom instead. But she doesn’t want to play in the playroom (“I’m all alone in there!”) and would prefer to sit on her stool and share cereal with Mellow. Again, the floor is like a minefield of crunchy oats, plus I have to deal with Wildling wanting to do everything I do – Mama, I want to clean my ears. Mama, I need deodorant. Mama, why are you putting on sunscreen? Can I have some? Mama I need you to [insert task involving a different room and possibly food] right now!

On weekends when Will is home, he usually handles Mellow while I shower. But that’s when Wildling comes in and announces that she needs a shower too, and she strips down and climbs in. Then she complains that the water is too hot, but she also stands directly under it and will not move so I have to contort myself in order to rinse the shampoo out of my hair without stepping on her. But at least she doesn’t bring cereal with her.


One thought on “Lost luxuries: the solitary shower

  1. Ha ha! When my kids grew up I remember the joy of being able to shut the bathroom door, instead of always leaving it open so that I could hear what was going on downstairs.:-)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s