Wednesday, February 22, 2006

The Things You Take For Granted

When I was a kid, our water company loved me. I liked the never-ending hot shower. I could stay in there until I looked like a pug, all wrinkly and pruney. I absolutely took those for granted.
Even before Hurricane, a shower typically consisted of at least 2 visits from Girl X (one to ask for cookies, the other to ask if she should ask Daddy instead) and one from Mr X (to ask if I told Girl X she could have cookies). Occasionally Dog would nose his way in or someone would flush a toilet which? Not exactly conducive to a relaxing shower.
The first time after Hurricane was born that I attempted a shower without Mr X home to watch him? Disaster.
I brought a bunch of his toys in the bathroom so he would have plenty to play with. He barely glanced up when I turned the water on. I thought it would be great because he was content to play with his toys and no one was home to barrage me with cookie questions and as long as I didn't actually say cookie, Hurricane was fine.
I now look back and laugh at my naivete.
As soon as I stepped in the shower, Hurricane decided that he was bored and began digging into the trash can. I got out and put the trash can and, as a preemptive measure, the toilet paper roll on top of the sink.
I got back into the shower and started to wash my hair.
He started playing with the bowl brush.
I got out and put the bowl brush and, as a sign of resignation, the plunger on top of the sink. I attempted, while shivering, to catch Hurricane's interest with his toys. He was, briefly, distracted.
I continued washing my hair.
Hurricane decided that he couldn't see me in the shower and so, began screaming and trying to climb into the tub.
I got out, with soap dripping into my eyes, and undressed him. I grabbed some of his toys and realized that showers alone were just not going to happen.
I put Hurricane in the shower with me and started rinsing my hair.
He screamed.
I ended up being able to only wash my hair and half my body since I had to hold him.
Today, I thought I would try this again. Had I lost my mind? Well, yes, but that's not it.
Girl X is home from school. Has been all week because she is sick too. Her mood is good, but her glands are swollen enough to make her look like a chipmunk.
I thought that she could play with her brother long enough for me to shower and that they'd distract each other enough that I may even be able to do this in peace.
People? I am so very stupid. And naive. Yes. I am very naive. Look those words up in the dictionary and there's my picture.
I think my first mistake was letting the bathroom door partly open in case they needed me. After this morning, they fend for themselves. I shall arm them with bayonets and pith helmets and send them into the jungle to hunt for wildebeests and I will shower in peace.
I had barely stepped into the shower when it started.
"Mom, Hurricane pulled my hair."
And he's crying. And she has his beloved Weebles.
"Give him back his toy and go away."
I had a head full of soap when she said Hurricane was hungry and could they please have some cookies. It's 9 am. Is she nuts? In this house we have chocolate cake at 9 am! How could she not know this?
I had to get out of the shower, with my soapy head, and give them some cereal bars. Did I mention that they both had waffles not 15 minutes beforehand?
I didn't even make it all the way back into the shower.
"Mom! Can we have some milk? I mean chocolate milk?"
No. I'm trying to dehydrate you. If a plum turns into a prune and a grape into a raisin, I think a kid would turn into a garden gnome. I just need to test that theory.
I started to rinse the shampoo when they decided that the bathroom was the perfect place for hide-and-seek.
I had my hair covered in conditioner when Girl X told me she needed me to sign something.
"The guy at the door said he needs a name so we can have the box."
Bugger! I think I've told her about a hundred gajillion times not to answer the door. Ever. And most definitely not when I am in the shower!
I hate it when the Fed-Ex guy smirks at you when you are standing there dripping in a robe. Ass.
Back in the shower. Hurricane decides he wants in and begins to take off his clothes. Girl X grabs his Weeble and runs. He screams, grabs the bowl brush and runs after her.
I close my eyes and count to 3.
He hit her with the brush and grabbed his Weeble.
Lesson? Don't mess with a boy's Weeble.
I knew I was running out of time. The water was getting cold and they kept running in and out of the bathroom. It was only a matter of time but again, I foolishly hoped I'd be able to finish without further incident.
Until Hurricane came running in crying and Girl X right behind him yelling "It wasn't me!"
He had fallen into the doorway and cut his head.
I managed to get one leg shaved so this is progress!

There isn't much that I miss about life before the kid's. But a shower that does not require another adult for supervision and a deadbolt on the door is definitely one on the short list.