Soured Showers

I remember the day several months ago it really hit me that I was the mother of a toddler and that my "baby" was gone. There I am in a steaming hot shower, lathering my hair with my eyes closed, and yelling out through the glass shower door "I think Elmo wants to ride in the bulldozer!"

The shower used to be a private place to get lost in thought and get away from the demands of others. Even with a baby in the bouncy seat on the bathroom floor, it was often still a pleasant and relaxing little part of the day in which to focus on myself.

But, alas, toddlerhood came. And now I have to grab a handful of toys to set my son up with in the corral I create with a baby gate just outside the open bathroom door. The cold air rushes in and I try to frantically yell out suggestions for play to keep him from sliding the glass shower door open and closed when he bores of the toys.

Or, I take him in the shower with me, where he commands me to get out of the stream of water because he wants it all to land on his back without sharing. So, I dance around between freezing my butt off while scrubbing to keep the peace and trying to rinse while he's crying that I've stolen his water.

If I had a time machine, I'd visit my former self and try to make her understand to never take a nice, hot shower alone for granted!

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