Grand Central Station aka The Bathroom

School has started. I find it difficult not to enjoy the thrill of a potent rush of adrenaline and break out in a case of the giggles every time the realization of this hits me once again. As excited as I am that my children are once again happily and snuggly tucked into a routine, it does have it's drawbacks. Many of these revolve around my bathroom, first thing in the morning. This morning was a prime example of that.

I arose--groggy--after only about 5 1/2 hours of restless sleep. I have not yet altered my bedtime routine to adjust to these new earlier mornings. When I went to bed, there were only two of us there. Sometime during the night, one more wee, itty-bitty, small, tiny little body found it's way into the bed. I stress the point here about the size of this little person--because as small as this little one may be--she takes up approximately 75 percent of the bed...give or take a couple of percent. I was feeling a bit....pretzel like.

I dragged myself to the bathroom. Relishing the thought of enjoying a quiet 10 minutes or so soaking in a hot tub before the start of a fast paced day. Enoying some quiet and solitude.....(you know where I'm going with this don't you!) When the first of my barbaric invaders slammed into the locked door, begging for attention. Luckily for me the dog doesn't have a set of opposable thumbs. He wasn't able to pick the lock to let himself into the room. Even if it weren't locked, I doubt very much that he's figured the door knob out yet. I wasn't taking any chances though.

Relieve flooded over me as I sunk slowly back into the blissfully warm tub, allowing the healing waters to wash soothingly over me.

Boom!

Barbaric invader number two had arrived. Just in time too. I was actually feeling the tension starting to melt away. We couldn't have that now could we.

Barbaric invader #2: "Mom, Megan said the F word!"
Cranky Mother: "Which F word is that? !" (yes, yes, I thought I had some idea of what that F word might be, but I just wanted to make sure before somebody got punished.)
Barbaric invader #2:"Friggin'"
Cranky Mother: "I'm in the friggin' tub trying to have a bath! I'll deal with it later!"

Ok. Now that I've solved that one, I'm noticing that the tension is taking a little bit longer to fade away this time. I don't even believe that I got to actually finish this thought before barbaric invader #3 entered the picture.

Rattle, rattle, rattle, BOOM!

Barbaric Invader #3: "Why's the door locked?! I have to use the bathroom."
Cranky Mother: "One guess."
Barbaric Invader #3: "But I have to use the bathroom, NOW."
Cranky Mother: "Luckily we have two. Go downstairs."
Barbaric Invader #3: "But I don't like that bathroom!"

Unfortunately barbaric invader #3 does have opposable thumbs and knows how to jimmy the lock.

Why is it that these people feel so comfortable around me that they can sit down in full view of where I'm soaking and feel absolutely no embarrassment at relieving themselves of every possible fluid, solid or gas that happens to be awaiting escape from their bodies? And since they have no inhibitions, can actually enjoy attempting to carry on a conversation all the while.

I was sitting in shocked disbelief and denial at what was happening in full view of where I soaked. "If I close my eyes and pretend not to hear, everything will be ok" I thought to myself. "If I hold my breath and pretend I can't smell, everything will be ok."

Drip, plop, crumble, drop (it's not what you think.)

Ah yes, I see invader number 4 and 5 have arrived to join in the fray! Just in time too! Wonderful.

Irrate Mother: "No eating muffins in the bathroom! That's gross! You're dropping crumbs in my water, and can't you see your sister is using the toilet! That's disgusting!"

Two invaders quietly exit without argument or complaint. They can't mutter a word, their mouths are full.

Well....finally, all of the barbaric intruders have finally left. I believe I can finish my now tepid bath with some peace since I have been visited by all of the kids, and even the dog. I hear a light tapping at the door, as a balding head cautiously peaks into the room.

"You don't mind if I shave while you're bathing do you?

Is it any wonder that I haven't adjusted my schedule yet? 10:00pm to 1:30am is the only time I have to think an uninterupted thought. That is the only blissfully quiet time of the day when all of the barbarians are asleep! (Yes, that includes the big bald guy and the short furry one too.)

Yes, we love our families, but have you ever wondered why God has provided us with the gift of a requirement of 8 hours of sleep a night? And why children need more? Any thing less would be uncivilized.

p.s. this blog entry was written a bit quickly. The barbarians are at the gate arguing again...on with the fray!