Tuesday, March 20, 2012

the magic box and boundary shortcomings.

There is one thing that I find absolutely mystifying.
Well, there are lots of things actually.
ANYWHO.
You know how your kids just can't leave you alone when you go into the bathroom?
What is that all about??
It's like they think the bathroom is this magical box filled with wonder and possibility.
"What are you doing mommy?"
Well, son, there are a limited number of answers for that question and I'd like you to use your savvy powers of deduction to figure that one out.
Here's a quick and easy guide:
Am I on the toilet? Possibilities: Going to the bathroom.
Am I holding a toothbrush? Possibilities: Brushing my teeth.
Am I naked? Possibilities: Showering. Or having a naked dance party.
I don't understand how I could be in a room with them for hours on end and they hardly pay any attention to me, but the second they hear the door close to the bathroom they feel the immediate need to investigate.
"Mommy went to the bathroom! We better go make sure she didn't disappear into a portal to another realm!"
Sometimes Donovan likes to lecture me on who in the family goes potty sitting down and who stands up (i.e. "Daddy goes potty standing up, Liam goes potty in his diaper, Mommy you go potty sitting down because you're a girl, Pa-Pa goes potty standing up, I go potty standing up because I'm a big boy" so on and so forth).
Come to think of it Donovan likes to lecture me on quite a few things.
Why he's playing with the red car instead of the blue car.
Who is the biggest tooter in the family.
His pooping experience.
Liam's recent intestinal activity.
A lot of his interests revolve around bodily functions.
Back to the bathroom thing.
People wonder why I so lack that boundary that dictates appropriate/inappropriate exposure/topics among friends and it relates directly back to the level of privacy I receive at home.
I recently read a blog that talked about how many things she did naked as a mom.
It couldn't have been more true.
The phrase "Hold on please mommy needs to get some clothes on" rarely works on toddlers. 
Although Van is at the age where he responds "Oh, you need to get dressed? 'Cause you're naked?"
Plus, the fight to get them to hold their horses is usually longer than it would take for you to just grab the car from under the refrigerator or save a stuffed animal from behind the bed or settle a quarrel among brothers. 
My children aren't the only ones who strip me of my privacy.
Our cats also frequently join me in the bathroom to sit on the counter while I'm sitting on the toilet and just purr and rub their head back and forth in my face.
Like I sat down specifically to allow for an optimal cuddling experience.
I'm sure many more moms can relate to this: I don't even shut the door anymore. 
The gesture is entirely futile.
It will be opened in a matter of minutes by either child inquiring after the efficiency of my bladder.
(i.e. "You almost done going potty mommy?")

I should probably bite my tongue.
In a few years I'm going to be writing a tearful post about how my children can only think to go "ewww" when they come across mommy in anything other than full body armor.

Motherhood is such a teeter-totter.

Friday, March 9, 2012

thank you for your judgment.

You know what just makes me furious??
When my kid runs in front of your cart at the store and instead of saying "Whoops!" and smiling sweetly down at my perfect son (silently thanking your lucky stars you didn't possibly maim this beautiful, innocent, playful child), you give an exasperated roll of your eyes and completely ignore us while maneuvering your cart to child-free territory.
You know what makes me even more furious???
When you've got your own teenage kids walking with you.
When you've clearly had to raise children yourself.
When, after about ten years toddler free, you decided to adopt a "holier-than-thou" attitude towards mothers of today with small children.
Oh, I'm sorry, did you never have to go to the store with them when they were little? Were you so organized and on-top-of-it to have a perfectly arranged lifestyle in which there was always someone to watch your children so you could go peruse the aisles of the glory that is Target all by yourself? You must be one lucky lady to have been so blessed during your lifetime that you never had to corral rambunctious toddlers/preschoolers through aisle after aisle of grab-able, brightly colored, tot-sized objects repeating the words "no" and "don't touch that" and "put it back" so many times you feel like a robot instead of a person.
And don't even give me that "there's-a-seat-in-the-cart-for-a-reason" look, lady, because believe me, I've tried that seat and if we were still using that method you'd be giving me the "your-child-is-screaming-and-disrupting-my-shopping-environment" look instead.
It's true, I never wanted to be that mom.
I never wanted to be the one running from aisle to aisle trying to find the missing toddler only to discover him playing fortress behind the stacks of toilet paper.
I always thought "How come these moms can't keep it together?"
So as a woman with a history of snobbish attitudes towards disheveled moms prior to my own initiation into the wonderful world of parenting I could understand how people who have never had children or don't have children yet could give me a disapproving glance.
What I find, however, is that most often I get these looks from other mothers.
Why do we always think we've got the market cornered on successful parenting?
Why are we so rude to each other sometimes?
Of all people we should be besties, not judgmental meanies.
Come on, people.
Spread the love.
Or something.