The bathroom and the sacred space

Well, I guess I fell off the consistency wagon. Again. But life does have a way of being lived and the kids aren’t as squishy or cute as they once were. And as they age, their insanity increases, but so does their need to remain private and not be mocked by the internet. All of this limits my material to some degree. I mean, I have stories. I have at least one kid shopping for portable finger pricking kits on Amazon so he or she can administer home Diabetes tests to the extended family. We eat too much candy. That seems to be the message there.

But I can’t write about any of that in great detail. It just wouldn’t be right. Entertaining, yes. But not proper or considerate. So some days, we just live and do our best. And some things don’t get written down.

Having been traveling for the last couple of weeks, I have noticed a trend that I’m ready to just briefly discuss.

It’s about the bathroom.

I am staying in my in-laws’ house, on the same large tract of land with my sister in law and a great uncle. There are grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents, and cousins roaming between 3 houses at any given hour of the day. With all of these great choices, I find that I don’t see my children nearly as much in a day as I do at home. In fact, in the last 3 hours I have only seen my youngest, who is sprawled out in the family room floor making a stop-motion video that is sure to be both bizarre and disturbing. Don’t even ask about the iMovie I watched last night. I’m reaching out to some experts for help because of that one…

At any rate, in a situation like mine this week, hours go by without a child asking for or needing anything.

Until I need to use the Little Ladies’ Powder Room.

I know other mothers out there are nodding emphatically here. It never fails. You need to go potty and they need you. Desperately. They haven’t tripped on the sidewalk in 6 months, but if you go to the bathroom, they’ll sprawl flat on the stone steps outside and need 17 staples to the head. They haven’t been hungry in days, but the moment, you turn the lock on the bathroom door, or start the water for a shower, the wailing sounds of starvation can be heard on the opposite side of that door.

Where is my clean Miami Heat shirt? Where are my blue striped socks? Can I have a can of pinto beans? I just soiled my shorts. I have a cramp in my leg. I can’t find my deodorant. My brother just tattooed me with a Sharpie and posted it online.

You get the picture.

Whatever is going to happen will start to happen while you’re in the bathroom.

Sometimes, they knock and just want to have a chat. Seriously. They want to chat through the door while I’m in the restroom in a house full of people. Sometimes they want to come in. To watch. And chat. And chat while watching.

So here’s what I want to say about that.

There is NO HUMAN I want to open the door for or chat with while I’m in a business meeting in a locked bathroom. NOBODY.

BFF? No. (Sorry.)

Obama? No.

Resurrected Ronald Reagan? Tempting, but no.

One Direction? Great hair, but No.

Matt Damon? No.

Various cast offs from previous Bachelorette seasons? No.

Bono? Well…..

I don’t want to know who got booted from America’s Got Talent or what just happened on the Today Show.

Now. Go sit down on the couch and fold your hands in your lap and wait for me to emerge. I don’t even want to know you are waiting for me. Just sit there. And wait. Go hither from whence thou came.

Bathrooms are sacred spaces.

There. I said it. And now that I have, nothing will change.