Every Day Luxuries

Becoming a mother means giving up certain luxuries in life -- some of which you don’t even REALIZE are luxuries until you notice their absence.  Take showering, for example.  Rob LOVES to shower.  He wakes up every morning and LEAPS triumphantly from his bed to the shower and claims the invigorating nature of his morning shower is enough to explain his non-dependence on coffee.

I dislike showering. I like to be clean, but when I wake up in the morning, warm and snug in my bed, the last thing I usually want to do is disrobe and get myself soaking wet.  Having the insanely untameable hair that I have, I don’t usually have a choice.  But SOMETIMES, on weekend when we don’t have to be somewhere first thing in the morning I get the rare luxury of indulging in coffee and breakfast FIRST and THEN working up to my shower.  It is on these mornings that I actually want to take a moment and ENJOY my showering experience…

It is also on these mornings, however, that the ABSENCE of this basic human luxury becomes glaringly obvious.  Inevitably ONE of my three dependents will come up with an essential question, an unexpected disaster or a scintillating conversation topic that just CAN’T WAIT the 5 minutes that I attempt to escape.

This weekend, having garnered some recent indignation around this injustice, I prepared for my shower.  I made sure both children were fed, dressed and entertained.  I left my mother supervising (while eating her breakfast and reading the paper) and enlisted Rob as BACK up supervisor, informing him of my intent to shower.  IN PEACE.

I was just at that critical moment when you have fully lathered your hair with shampoo and it is dripping in your ears so you can’t really hear right and just about to hit your eyes and sting your contacts, when a little voice came from the other side of the shower curtain.  I looked like a blind and slightly deaf Sasquatch.

“Mommy….” It said hesitantly yet angelically,

“Yes, Toby” I said impatiently

“Um…. I have a question for you”

“Is it urgent? Do you have to ask me RIGHT NOW while I’m in the shower?”

He thought about this long enough for the soap to fully clog my left ear and drizzle down my right eyelid.  I now looked like a LOPSIDED blind and slightly deaf Sasquatch.

“Yes.”

“Is it something that Daddy can answer for you?”

He thought about this for a bit.

“No.”

“Is it something that Grandma can answer for you?”

“No."

OK then.  I was now fully removed from the relaxing sound of my shower and turned the water off so I could hear Toby’s pressing question.

“What is it…?”

As I stood there shivering, soaking wet, buck naked, and covered in soap from head to toe, Toby asked his question

“Well…” he said, “I was just wondering what your favourite part of your day has been so far.”

It took a moment for me to register that THAT was the pressing question.  It took another moment for me to come up with a suitable response.  It was 8:45.  I had been up for less than 2 hours: hard to really put a finger on the BEST moment of those 90 minutes but I certainly had an inkling as to what my LEAST favourite moment was.

I told him it was when I had been asleep and sent him on his way, only to have to relive the EXACT. SAME. SCENE. two minutes later when I had just gotten the conditioner lathered all over my hair. 

Obviously not content with my initial answer, this time he was back with a slightly different variation on his original question. “What do you THINK is going to be your best moment today?”

Just as I don’t know why having 5 minutes to oneself in the shower is such an impossible task, I still have not figured out WHY he was suddenly questioning me on this train of thought.  But I waved my white flag of shower-bliss, rinsed off, and attended to Toby (who by then was waiting with my towel in hand) to give him a proper answer to his question.  

I resisted the urge to answer with an activity that took place during their naptime or after their bedtime… Like a good mommy does, I said that watching him play soccer would likely be my very favourite moment of the day.

“Oh good.”  He said, watching me as I got changed, “So is that what you were thinking about in the shower??”

I guess, by becoming parents, we lose some of the "every day luxuries", but we gain the unexpected joys of having someone care SO MUCH about how our day is going that they just can't wait 5 minutes to ask us...