This morning, I reached my breaking point. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and shouted in a whisper, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE?!” I didn’t intend for it to come out that way, and almost instantly, guilt hit me like a ton of bricks against my muffin top. The worst part? My peaceful bubble had burst.
Let’s rewind by about 15 minutes. The kids were racing around the living room, and the smell of burnt toast lingered in the air. Just as the coffee maker chimed triumphantly, my husband and I were awkwardly navigating the kitchen, desperately trying to grab the half-and-half without colliding.
Before chaos could fully ensue, I declared with authority that I was heading to the bathroom. I employed my Mom Voice, mixed with the I-Just-Woke-Up-Don’t-Mess-With-Me Glare, ensuring everyone understood that I needed this time alone. Then, I made a quick exit, practically sprinting to the far end of the house.
Once inside the bathroom, I took a generous sip of my hot coffee and let out a deep sigh of relief. At last, I was alone. Outside, the world was a whirlwind of morning madness, but here, in my little sanctuary, I found solace.
However, this is anything but a civilized household.
As I peeled off my yoga pants and searched for my favorite towel, I guzzled my coffee like a desperate mom because there’s nothing quite like savoring it while it’s still warm. Yet, not two minutes into my precious alone time, I noticed tiny fingers pressing against the door in sheer panic. Small voices erupted into a barrage of questions while I tried to maintain my silence. If they can’t hear me, maybe I’m not really here?
“Mommy? Are you peeing? …Are you pooooooping?!” (laughter)
“Mom? MOM? …MOOOMMMMMM! What are you doing in there?!”
What I wanted to convey was simple: I’m hiding from you! I just wanted a moment of peace while I tended to basic hygiene. In that moment, I imagined what my family must think is happening behind that closed door:
- I’m being kidnapped.
- My secret decoder ring is giving me new missions.
- A dinosaur has me in its clutches.
- I’m indulging in a chocolate stash with zero intention to share.
- I fell into the toilet.
- I’m plotting the most epic timeouts ever.
- I’m hiding the DVD remote.
- I’m making my escape.
- Santa and the Tooth Fairy are brainstorming with me.
- I’m on an important call that must interrupt me.
- I’m contacting the Mother Ship.
And so on.
There I was, sitting peacefully with a book and my coffee, mentally planning my future hair-washing with flowery shampoo, when suddenly, the door swung open. My husband strolled in casually, asking, “Hey, have you seen my blankety-blank-blank?!” That’s what I heard just before two little tornadoes dashed in behind him.
One child wanted a hug and to tug on my hair, while the other unleashed a barrage of questions about why I was sitting down and drinking coffee in the bathroom, even commenting on how my hair looked like a bear.
That was my epiphany: this was the last time I would ever enjoy a bathroom break alone. I surrendered to the undeniable truth that mothers simply can’t find solitude when it comes to basic bodily functions.
For more on navigating motherhood, check out our post on the CryoBaby at Home Insemination Kit. Additionally, for insight on Earth Day and its relevance to family life, you might find this link enlightening. If you need excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, consider visiting Progyny.
In summary, the reality of motherhood often combines chaos with a longing for solitude, especially during those precious bathroom moments. Despite our best efforts to sneak away, it’s a universal truth that moms will rarely find alone time, even in the restroom.