This morning, I could see myself in the all-star cast of “Grand Hotel” being Greta Garbo cast as a Russian ballerina melodramatically delivering the line "I vant to be alone".
I was feeling melodramatic. For the past two years we have shared one shower amongst six people. Big house, two bathrooms, one stinking shower. You could just count on the fact that the very moment that the plastic shower rings hit the side of the retro pink and gold shower wall, that someone was either going to knock on the door or barge in to brush teeth, pee (or worse), curl their hair, straighten their hair, brush their hair, look for something, or all of the above at the same time. Just for clarity’s sake, it’s only the two littlest members of the family would actually come in and go potty while someone else was in the shower. In fact, I’ve actually reached out of the shower for a towel and found my four year old sitting on the pot reading a Toys R Us catalog. Thank goodness I saw him first and grabbed the towel or he would have been in therapy for life.
Anyway, one of the most blissful things about our new home, is that once again, we have a Master Bath. Jason has his sink, I have my sink. Jason has his shower, I have my whirlpool tub. AND I have just decided to establish a rule that I have NEVER been able to establish before because of the shower situation and because our home computer and only working DVD player were in our bedroom.
My room is OFF LIMITS.
Children are NOT allowed in my room unless they either ask my permission, or I’m in there and they knock. Yes, knocking on a door is a new concept in our home. It suddenly dawned on me that of all of the people in our house, Jason and I have been the only ones that are not allowed to have privacy or a space that is just ours. I cannot count the times over the past years that I have walked into my room to go to bed or to read, and found Becky or Amy at the computer doing homework, while IM’ing and talking on the phone. Or, I come home from work and go into my room to change to find Sarah and Dylan on my bed watching a movie. Or even better, come into my room and the girls and their FRIENDS are sitting all over my bed in doing something with the computer that sits in a messy bedroom with my underwear in a pair of pantyhose on the floor two feet away from them. That’s my favorite.
So where was I…oh yeah, I want to be alone! And I can! And I will! It occurred to me just this morning when my bathroom filled up with people again. Amy brought her curling iron into my bathroom so that I could do her hair for 80’s day (it’s scary how easily creating that mall-bang/cobra hairdo comes back to you), Sarah was looking for a hair tie to bring to Jason so that he could do her hair, Becky needed to borrow deodorant and Dylan was just along for lack of anything more interesting to do. I am so used to the chaos in the morning that I didn’t even notice at first. It’s been so long since I’ve had a bathroom moment alone where I didn’t have someone trying to talk to me through the door or wiggling fingers underneath it. Anyway, my thoughts have turned to alone time. Like, real, honest to goodness, no one knock, no one call, no one ask me for ANYTHING, time in the tub alone with a book.
Once upon a time, I took a lot of long, hot, relaxing baths. I could spend an hour in there, adding hot water as needed, simmering until tender. There may have been candles, there may have been a glass of wine. Perhaps a magazine. Perhaps a spouse. Now there are mostly children. When the days began where I couldn’t take a bath without some little person helpfully throwing toys into my bathwater because it looked bereft of entertainment…I stopped taking them.
I'm rarely alone in the bathroom any more. Pairs of feet follow me in whenever I go, little people chattering about this, that, or whatever, asking me questions, handing me toilet paper while I try to shoo them out the door.
An evening alone in the bathroom feels like a fantasy that may never come true…kind of like our front deck getting built before summer. In fact, one day last weekend I had the kids off-island all day running errands and Jason was at home alone doing projects. I ran all over creation with my self-created mob, and starting feeling very envious of Jason. I mean, I get plenty of time to myself if I need it because I work all day. But time to myself in my own home is as rare as authentic hoodia. Now, I don’t have to say again how I wouldn’t trade these years with my children for all the tea in China --- but for heaven’s sake.
Just for an evening --- I vant to be alone.
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