The Mother Load

As I write this, I can feel a familiar feeling of tightness and urgency forming within my bladder.  Maybe that was too much information, but for the purposes of this column, I feel the need to share it.  I've gotta go.  If I weren't sitting on my bed, laptop perched on a pillow on my lap, I'd be doing a potty dance the likes of which the world has never seen.

So, why don't I go?  Because I'm on a roll, and the kids aren't bothering me.  As long as I sit on this bed and type, the kids will continue going about their kidly business of playing, running, giggling, and by the sounds of it, not doing chores.  I'm okay with that for now, because I have a column to write, and I need them to let me get it done.   The minute I get off this bed and hurry into the bathroom that is a mere 7 or 8 feet away, all of that will change.

You moms know what I'm talking about, don't you?

If there's one thing I've learned in my 13 years of motherhood, it's that there is no such thing as a  private bathroom break.  The moment I step inside those walls it's like some alarm goes off in my kids' heads.  Mom's in the bathroom! Must...go...knock!  Must...disturb...with..requests...that...could...wait!  Must...smack...my...brother...on...the...head!

Sometimes, they come running before I even make it in there.  They see me barreling down the stairs and think, "Hey! There's mom on her way to the bathroom. I think this is a fine time to yell through the door about my allowance.  Wait...she's really in a hurry.  Definitely a 'walk right in' kind of situation."

I could be more understanding of this behavior if I spent half the day hiding in the bathroom, but really, I don't.  I'm not the kind of person who uses bathroom time as an opportunity to read National Geographic or write the great American novel.  I go in, get 'er done, and get out.  I'm sure I only average three minutes each time. 

All I want is three minutes of peace.  Is that too much to ask?

Sarah's kids: Yes, mom. Yes, it is.

I suppose it's all a product of early childhood conditioning.  When they're babies and toddlers, we take them in there with us in order to keep an eye on them...keep them safe.  They get a little older, and suddenly they're verboten.  It's very possible that we've wired our kids to expect danger any time they're not in the bathroom with us.

"Mom's in the bathroom and we're out here with the zombies and the tigers and the planet ending asteroids!  Everybody in there NOW!"

And so my seated potty dance continues until this column is published.  It's great for uninterrupted writing...terrible for my urinary tract health.  I guess that's why God invented antibiotics.

And writer's block.