Sharing Bath Time

 

It seems that once I became a mother I would never be alone again.  As long as I am accessible, I am available to my children.  When I am not accessible, they will find me with a phone call or a search party, but they will always find me.  I may have created this issue myself since I was a stay-at-home mom for all of their earliest years.  When they were babies  I would often bring them in a bounce chair into the bathroom whenever I showered.  When they needed a bath I would just bring them in with me.  When they could sit up, they would sit at the end of the tub and play.  On rare occasions when I had a small toddler and a baby I would have two in the shower with me.  

It is funny how privacy naturally occurs with children.  Some have more than others as they grow, which is evident in my 4th in line who still forgets to close the door when using the bathroom. I would say right around five the idea of privacy starts to come naturally enter their psyche.  They don't need help washing their hair in the shower.  They want the bedroom door closed when putting on pajamas and they certainly don't want to share much of their private growth and development;  and yet, when mom wants privacy it is questioned, when mom needs time, it is intruded upon, and when mom wants to be alone, she cannot just be alone. That is motherhood. 

I don't often take baths anymore, although a very good friend has me convinced, by her life actions, that they are the best form of self-care maybe with an addition of a special bath bomb for fun.  A few days ago I felt a bath to be the best thing for me since I was not feeling well, maybe even a bit feverish.  So a good old-fashioned bath would soothe the aches and bring down the fever.  I have long since expected to have a child barge in on me so I am always careful to close the curtain to the bathtub just in case.  I do not have very little ones or toddling bébés who have no sense of shut doors and leaving mommy alone.  However, the fear remains.  Daily I am interrupted in the bathroom with knocks and questions and so, I expect nothing less than an incursion from at least one of my 5. 

I set the bath just right, found a great-smelling bubble to put in and was whisked away in comfort.  I decided because I have been having auditory overstimulation, probably because I am feeling ill, I was gonna go back in time and completely let my ears go underwater.  As soon as I went under and was engulfed in the muffled sounds of the house I could hear a knock on the door.  

I ignored it. I'm in the bathroom,  I intentionally want to and should be alone in the bathroom.  Knocks came again as I knew they would and I could hear through the bathwater muffled sounds of talking.  I couldn't distinguish what was being said, but I said, while still submerged,  "Mommy's taking a bath, please go ask your father."  I heard an older child's voice say, "leave mom alone."  It sounded like the situation was elevating after that so I emerged to hear out the visitor on the other side.  

"Who is it?" I said.

They always answer, "Me," which can get a little tricky when the kids are near the same age and have a door barrier blocking out sound.  I could guess it was one of the youngest two, but I play a little bit.  

"Who's 'Me'?" I say with a smile.

"You know, me, C------."  

"Who's that?

She just moves on without missing a beat, "Um, Mom?  I have to use the bathroom, can I come in and go to the bathroom?"

I thought, maybe I should stick to my guns since I rarely take baths.  Maybe I should tell her to go downstairs to use the other bathroom, but my guess is she would be back for a different reason so I said, "Okay the curtain is closed you can come in."

So she enters and began her business.  She asked me why I was taking a bath.  What did I use in the bath? etc. Then she started telling me every detail of her business.  Disclaimer:  this next part is about poop, if you are a parent this probably will not phase you in the least, but if you do not want to read about poop stop now.   So there she was discussing her weekly business while she was doing her business.   Every detail about consistency, frequency, issues with finding the time, and tummy aches.  She covered everything about her poop in this timeframe.  I started to roll my eyes, thinking, I invited this.  But then as I listened to a still little-sounding voice, I started to consider how infrequently I notice I spend getting to know my children's intimate details.   We've become a well-oiled machine in our family, with one child passing our family culture to the next.  When my first boys were little, I knew exactly when they did their business.  There was certainly less going on so the focus was easier to observe the details.   

I started to smile at her conversation thinking she has a unique skill of being able to tell a story from nothing, and yet she has my attention.  I started to realize that what she really wanted wasn't a conversation about poop, but an intimate moment with her Mama.  After all, she is my baby, even at seven.  I couldn't help but smile on the other side of the curtain while she chattered away.  And when she was done, she came over and asked a very important question.

"Um...Mommy?  When you are finished with your bath do you think we can have alone time?  Just me and you.  Maybe I can read to you and we could watch a show and snuggle?"  

I smiled, knowing we were well overdue for a one-on-one.  So I agreed.  We spent the rest of the evening cuddled up on my bed, while she read me The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog! and we watched a little story about the children at Fatima.  It wasn't much, but it was what she really wanted.  Sharing time bathed in her attention, so that she knows that she can still come to me.  Maybe someday she won't hesitate to knock on my door again and let her mother in on some of what is going on with my ever-growing baby.