Saturday, January 3, 2009

Splish Splash

Having children is an experience you don't want to miss. Creating a precious creature with the man that you love... puking for months on end... watching your belly stretch to an alarming size... grunting, sweating, screaming and crying as a team of people, most of whom you never knew before that day, stare expectantly at your hooch... the final emergence of that baby that marks its way by the destruction of your nether regions... and into your arms.

Instantly, all is forgiven and joy knows no bounds. Each milestone is met with the knowledge that your baby is the most wonderful baby in the world... until brothers and sisters join the team and you think that you and your husband are quite possibly the best baby makers of all time. And you believe that you will be the first set of perfect parents ever.

As the years go by, you slowly realize with each defeat by the parent brigade to the mob of children that it is a much harder job than you realized. Your parents who were complete idiots in the rearing of children begin to look... not quite so dumb. In fact, there begin to be times when you actually ask them for advice. And listen.

Then your children become teenagers. All illusions of familial grandeur are ripped from your mind. You may struggle to even recognize those wonderful babies in the accusatory glances and sour expressions of the morphing teen into adult through the anatomical acquiring of (ahem) extra body parts and pimply eruptions of frightening proportion. Gone are the parenting plans. It's survival time. Prayers for the return of Jesus become a nightly ritual. Ice cream becomes the booze you wish you had the guts to drink.

As they move out or go off to college and their numbers decrease in the home... and you're left with the youngest, but yet possibly the horriblest... you can feel yourself begin to relax a little bit. There is a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel after all. You still have sleepless nights as you try not to think of what your older children are up to... out there... on their own... in not the best part of town... or on that secular college campus... But, your worries are soothed by the salve of having your very own bathroom and an empty bed to crawl into when the snoring gets too loud in your own. You begin to have some assurance that, whatever may be coming down the pike, you will survive.

Then... your child comes home from college for a month long break. She sets up camp in YOUR bathroom... and uses your stuff... And leaves her stuff all over... And she uses the good washcloths to cleanse her eyes of black eyeliner and mascara... AND she's in her bed which is now your extra bed. It is okay. She's your baby girl and you want her home. Right? Right?!?!

Yes, OF COURSE!

Well, ummm, until you go to take a shower. There are towels all over the floor. The good ones. That's easy enough to overlook. You do happen to see as you walk down the hall to the bathroom that your daughter has recently showered as she applies make-up with dripping wet hair. It may cause a moment of hesitation, but you think to yourself... she's the only one to have taken a shower. There will be plenty of hot water...

Ummm. NO. Not even 2 full minutes of tepid water. By then you are committed. You must clench your teeth and do your routine as quickly as possible. No need for gentle circular motions with the apricot scrub. Splat that stuff into the middle of your palms and rub it into your face while trying your best to avoid your eyes. When it gets in your eyes, only think the bad words.

Don't use as much shampoo as you normally do to keep the amount of suds down and the length of time your head must be under the water, which by the way, will send sharp daggers of pain straight into your brain. It is okay to whisper bad words. No one is in the bathroom to hear you. Put the 2 minute conditioner into your hair, count to 60 as fast as you can, call it good and rinse. You might not be able to control yourself at this point and some bad words may be able to reach the ears of someone standing in the hall.

It will be getting harder to stand. Your body will be shivering... and if you glow in the dark like me... it will begin to take on a purply plucked chicken appearance. It is best to stand farther back from the water than usual. And never face the water. Never. You will need to fore go the body wash and puff. There's just no time and your cries will be uttering forth from your very depths with only your chattering teeth impeding their way as they rush out and envelope your home. Just lather up some soap and get the parts that can get stinky.

As you pull back the shower curtain and your body is flash frozen by the air wooshing at you... and the large mirror hasn't got the faintest bit of obliterating steam and you are forced to see your nakedness... go ahead and scream. Just let it all out. It matters not that the neighbors might hear. Your child... the child whom you sacrificed your very body for... the child who rudely and inconsiderately used ALL THE HOT WATER must hear your anguished cries. Somewhere, somehow, within her very soul she should feel some sort of remorse for what she has put you through.

Once back in your bedroom there might be a small knock on your door. You're filled with gratitude that your child does have a heart and open the door a small crack. You look into her beautiful face fully expecting an heartfelt apology and an, "I love you Mom!" She smiles at you and raises her thumb to her temple with her hand splayed out in typical Simon from American Idol fashion and says, "Sorry!" in her best British accent.

And that is my life.

15 comments:

Flea said...

I am afraid. I am very afraid. I have seen the future and it is not pretty.

thislittlepiggy said...

Happy New Year? Snort.

Only 19 more days until Sweetums becomes a teenager.

Trisha said...

Yikes! Your description of a cold showe is WAY too graphic! I hope your daughter got the message to shorten the showers (and to pick up the towels!).

Gladys said...

Oh CB! I feel for you honey. I have all 400 of my kids coming to stay with us next week. In a one bedroom one bathroom condo. We have NO washer and dryer on site and have to schlepp all our stuff to the laundry mat. So you can already imagine what that is going to be like!!

Laura ~Peach~ said...

LMAO>>>> as I cough up a lung from this horrid beast that has us in its grip... laughing out loud is not optional....YOU have gifted fingers to be able to put into words things I so know and feel... just to add to the misery... be thankful you do not have a tempramental well... I have been fully soaped from head to toe in the above cold water then suddenly there is NO water!!!!!!! there is NOTHING more uncomfortable than soap in places for extended periods of time while husband is screaming and cursing and priming the pump.... sigh parenthood is such a dream :)

jojo said...

Oh CB...only you could put this so eloquently ;)

MaBunny said...

HAHA, yuppers, i have that to look forward too. I have , however taken a cold shower before and although it may feel good in 100degree weather - it DOES NOT feel good in the winter.

Two Dogs said...

No girls in my household, mostly I am grateful for that fact.

His Living Sacrifice said...

Too funny! Thanks for making me smile, I needed that and I can relate. Not to one going away to college, as a matter of fact, my Senior will probably go local. I'm sure that will present it's own set of challenges. You're such a good mom!!!

Rick said...

After all this time, it has finally come down to this - you've stooped so low as to become a follower of my blog. You poor child.

Actually, I wanted to write and tell you that I am honored.

You haven't entered my giveaway and I know why - you're not doing it because you already got a free doodle. Don't let that stop you. Nothing wrong with winning another one.

Chris H said...

OH please don't remind me what teenagers are like! Steve and Mike and Abby are due here tomorrow for a week!!!!!!

Practically Joe said...

The first part of your post sounded very familiar except ours went on from coming home from college ...
Three homebound college graduate daughters quickly shipped off again via three weddings in three years.
Please send donations.

Sue said...

Oh, I loved this post! Loved the one about Double Shot driving too - our A.J. just got his license last week....very, very scary...

Just Me said...

Woman, you have a gift with words. (I still don't know why I coudln't bring your blog up last night. Weird.)

1. I knew there was a reason I'll be having yet another c-section. My nether regions aren't stared at or ruined. I can still sneeze without peeing myself.

2. My daughter is only seven and can drain the hot water tank.

3. Do not face the cold water. Truer words were never spoken. We impolitely call washing the parts that get stinky "a ho bath."

4. Save some pennies and invest in an instant (tankless) hot water heater, and you'll never shower with cold water again. (I want one very badly.) You'll also save money on your electric bill.

hanagrace said...

Just read this... I almost cried because I laughed so hard! You have an amazing way with words. I love your honesty! Awesome. :-)