At least the shower curtain is pretty.
I am never alone. Ever.
While I cook dinner Viola holds onto my skirt and follows me around the kitchen one itty bitty baby step at a time. When I use the restroom Zuzu knocks on the door and tries to talk to me about her princesses while Viola howls in the hall because obviously I have gone somewhere and will never come back. As I type this Miss Viola Honey (who has been up since 5:30, because why not?) is whimpering and crawling in circles by my feet. How can I display such nerve? Paying attention to a screen instead of my perfect, angelic, little….OW! The little monster just bit me.
You get the idea.
The one time I get to be blessedly, utterly alone is in the shower. It is my own little steam filled sanctuary. And sure, maybe the kids knock at the door, but the fan and water and hum of my own thoughts conspire to make a noise so dense I can’t hear a blessed thing. (side note: I only take showers when Riley is home. So no, I am not neglecting the children. At least not while I am showering…) It may not surprise other moms out there, but my showers tend to be quite long. As in, I will stay in here until five minutes past when the hot water runs out. (side note: I understand this may or may not adversely affect some too cute for words penguins somewhere. Conservation! I also may or may not care. Currently, I am trying to conserve my sanity. The penguins can wait.)
Yesterday, Riley had early morning meetings at church so I started my daily routine of hot water and quiet time a couple of hours before the kids were due to wake up. Finally. A moment to myself. A brief respite to think all those big thoughts that go unthought in the midst of diaper changes and playing princesses “ONE MORE TIME, OKAY MOMMY!?”
As the water coursed down from my head to my toes, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander…
“I wonder when Riley will get home from his meetings this morning? Will I have time to make breakfast? Perhaps I should cut the shower a little short. Oh my goodness, what if I got out right now to check on the kids and there was someone in the house? What would I do? There isn’t anything in here I could defend myself with… I wonder how much damage you can inflict on a stranger with a toilet plunger. Well, I am sure my mama bear instinct would assert itself and I would be able to figure something out. I took karate for a semester ten years ago...I could totally handle myself. Unless. What if the intruder was a wizard? Like with a wand with sparks that shoot out of it? How do you disable magic? And let’s say I do…would I tell the police about the sparking wand wielding wizard in the police report? Man. That would be a test of your honesty, wouldn’t it? Would I rather have my integrity and have people think I am crazy or stay mum about the magic part and live my life as a liar? Well, that would be selfish. How are people supposed to protect their homes against wizards if they don’t think they exist? I need to keep the public informed! Yeah, I would definitely be honest no matter the cost. Wow. I am glad to know that about myself. Man, I almost hope there is a wizard with ill intent out there so that I can bust the lid off this whole thing.”
Yes, when I am finally alone I construct impossible wizard intruder scenarios in which I emerge from the conflict both victorious and a victim of a society that does not believe in magic. These are the thoughts that go unthought throughout the day.
I can hear the penguins now, “This? We have been indirectly affected by years of long, hot showers for this?!?”
And all I can do is look them in their big black eyes and say,