I cried this morning.

It all started when I found the bathroom door locked.

Crying wasn't what I had planned. In fact, I had headed to the bathroom door to tell Blake a joke about just how exhausting it is trying to wrestle a diaper on a wriggly little 11-month old. I was going to tell him that even though it is only 7:30am and all I have accomplished this morning is replacing a soggy diaper with a dry one, that I am too exhausted to go on. I was going to complete this with an overly dramatic pantomime of crawling back in bed and disappearing under the covers.

It was going to be funny and cute and lead to Blake tickling me out of the bed so I could confront the day (and the four sets of eyes waiting for breakfast in the kitchen) in a happier manner. 

That was how it was going to happen in my head.

But then I turned the bathroom doorknob...

and it was locked...

and I heard my husband gaily whistling a tune...

and I lost it.

Some demon in my head screamed, "WHY DOES HE ALWAYS GET TO SHOWER BEHIND A LOCKED DOOR?!?"

It's been years (seven to be exact) since I have had the luxury of a private shower. There is always someone poking around the curtain. In fact, the majority of the time I take baths and have not just one but two little people splashing along side me as I attempt to shave my legs.

So when Blake opened the door looking neat and comely, the joke fell silent on my lips, and instead all I could muster is, "I am so jealous of you." Then I shut the door and re-locked it and sat on the toilet and cried as he brushed his teeth.

I knew I was being a bit ridiculous which made me cry even harder.

And then Fielding came a knocking to see where Mommy had disappeared to which made me cry even harder.

"See - no one cares when you lock the door but the second I do it they all come hunting."

It's not that I want a role reversal. I wouldn't want the pressure to be the financial provider. I wouldn't want to be the one thinking about how exactly I would react if an intruder came into our home. I wouldn't want to be the one responsible for killing all the spiders.

But sometimes when I think of how untangled Blake can keep his life from the kids - I get jealous. 

If he wants to go for a run - he gets up and goes. If I want to go for a run - I feed all the kids and nurse the baby and load them into the car and eventually arrive at the gym where I watch the childcare-number thing my entire workout, worried that Perry is screaming his head off.

I think one of the most beautiful things about motherhood is that it makes you think more about someone else and less about yourself. But sometimes I kick against this because let's face it, I am selfish, and today a shower all alone behind a locked door sounded a wee bit heavenly... 

And since I couldn't have one than why should my dear ol' hubby be entitled to one?

P.S. The giveaway is still open until Friday.


Britt said...

I hear ya.

There, there.

Crystal said...

What drives me crazy is when I go to shower because my husband is home to watch the kids (he was working nights) and I close the door and HE BRINGS THEM IN THE BATHROOM TO SEE ME. Kills me.