I have a safe haven. A place to hide escape when the house is crazy, my head is pounding, and my every thought is threatening to explode in screams. There is silence—well, muffled noise outside the bathroom door. There is no one hanging on my legs. No one sits on my lap. I’m not asked to find something I don’t own, fix something I didn’t break, or turn on something I don’t want to hear. When they realize I’m “missing,” the inevitable search begins. Mom? Mom? Mom, where are you?! When the panic sets in, it’s time to reveal my position.
It’s not often I get to go there. I rarely make it my throne alone. When I do manage to get into the bathroom all by myself, I lock the door and stay way longer than necessary. Luckily for me, current circumstances allow the opportunity for escape quite frequently. I think all mother’s need a safe haven of some sort. It’s not a retreat, by any means. We are often doing something that we would have to do anyway, but the blessed minutes of peace make the chore a bit more tolerable. When we were kids, the sibs and I could never figure out why Mom wouldn’t answer us when she was in the laundry room. I get it now, Mom. Luckily for her, 4 kids produced lots of laundry.
I remember those times. The sanctuary of the bathroom, that’s when I began my bubble bath ritual..Calgon – take me away!
Gosh I screwed up, my kids think they can sit themselves on my lap while I’m on the toilet. *sighs*