When Gabriel was a baby and I was back at work, I tried to shower before he would wake up. It became a task of tip toeing and wondering if the city knew just how loud the water actually was. Maybe I should call them? Seriously, how did I not notice the octaves of water prior? While he didn't sleep through the night until he was a year old, he did always sleep through my shower.
Eventually, sleep cycles changed and I would strap Gabriel into his carseat and take a very quick shower hoping he either didn't cry or the cries wouldn't break my heart too much. The loud anguishing cries were probably similar to what torture victims sound like when they still have voices. He was much happier free and exploring, something that still hasn't changed, nor do I expect it will. This is the type of experience that can make one sweat in the shower. The stress, the rush, the forgetting to shave the 2nd leg, just anything to end the experience and give your child what they want. This is how they train you...to always think about them and what they need, want, desire. It starts with your morning shower. Someday, I thought, I will be able to take a peaceful shower.
Approaching the "not so much a baby not really a toddler" years, I was very lucky to have the help of my step-daughter. She would help get Gabriel ready in the morning during the week---changed, sometimes cereal fed. At the time she probably enjoyed this (to an extent), but until she had a child of her own, she probably never realized what her minutes to an hour of help actually did for my well being. A semi-peaceful shower no matter if 2 minutes or 15 minutes is a jackpot of diamonds to a mother. Of course, I still rushed, thought of a million things that could be going wrong, dissected if i really needed to wash my hair, justified shaving my legs a few days apart. Someday, I will shave both legs in the same day I thought.
I'm pretty certain that somehow toddlers and small children have brains that automatically switch into need mode when they hear anything related to the closing of a door. Is this what they are really doing that first night at the nursery hosptial? Does a nurse walk around with a clipboard instructing the others which babies still need "the chip" inserted? This chip turns the very word you couldn't wait for them to say into a shrilling blood curling, cringing, and sigh inducing word: Mom. Someday, I will manage an entire hair and make-up session without being needed. I often go without make-up. Someday, I will look like a movie star every time I leave my house. Well, I do have some pretty cool sunglasses...
When Gabriel started school he used to sit in the bathroom while I did my hair or put make-up on (ok so both didn't normally happen on the same day). We would talk, the dog would often get in the way, first Lobo, later Arlo. It became our time and it brought us closer. I enjoyed it. Of course, there were still times I got aggrevated when I tripped over Gabriel or the dog, or for a short time the dogs. I would remind myself, this time won't last forever, be in the moment, enjoy the moment.
My brother's children started coming over in the morning several years ago. The only visitor to the bathroom in the mornings now is Memphis and the occasional child letting me know of some discrepancy by another child that morning. At times, I leave the bathroom stressed because of the noises in the other rooms (are they fighting, playing, an ER visit needed?), but for the most part I do my thing and they do theirs. Occassionally, the click of the door in non-morning hours activates "the chip", but at 9, Gabriel can wait a minute or two and sometimes I purposefuly take longer. He has to learn patience, you know.
Over the weekend, I had the radio on full blast while in the shower. Something I don't do often if I'm the only adult home. A song by Gabriel's favorite band, F.U.N., filled the speakers. Only this time my dormant chip was activated. When I heard the opening of the door, I smiled. For the next several minutes, we sang at the top of our lungs, me in the shower and him dancing on the tile floor. I will miss these days because they really are limited. They really are coming to an end.
