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"Experience is not what happens to you; its what you do with what happens to you." - Aldous Huxley |
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Published December/January 1997 in Manic Moms
"She knows how to knock on the bathroom door," I muttered to myself, not even sure which daughter it was. "Wow, when did she learn that?" Then I realized, that she must have known that I was still in bed. If there was any chance that it was me in the bathroom, there would have been no knocks, just a child barging in through the door. Unless it was locked, a new technique for privacy that I have recently instituted. It cuts down on unwanted traffic, but not on the piercing conversations through the door. We have 2 1/2 baths in our house. A true luxury, I know. But it never fails that wherever I am is usually the bathroom that everyone else wants to use. When I grew up in our small Trenton, NJ row house, there were five of us that somehow survived with one bathroom. I remember even then that with three girls, my Mom never had any privacy. Of course nobody really did, except Dad who was happy to be the only male in a house full of women. He got more time alone in the bathroom than anyone else. In fact, sometimes I think he retreated there just to get away from the rest of us. Now that I think of it, it's the same for my husband. He knows that if he's in the bathroom the girls will stop and look for another room to use, usually the room I'm occupying. Somehow it isn't fair. The girls know that I crave a little privacy. I repeat the same phrase numerous times each day. "Just give me privacy for a few minutes," I plead as they giggle. "I just need help getting my shoes tied Mom," says our 5 year old. "It's not a convenient time for that," I call out. "But you're already sitting down," she says, "that means you're closer to the ground." Yes, this conversation actually took place. Incredible how young minds work. This is the same child who just about a week ago called out words for her older sister to spell. "How do you spell 'keep out,' she asked. An 8 year old voice complied from another room. "How about 'I need,' she continued. The response followed. "Now tell me how to spell 'privacy,' she said finally. When she was done
she had a 8½" by 11" multi colored crayon sign that she
tapes on the bathroom door each The next day, I saw the sign and asked if I could borrow it. Hey, if it works for her, who knows. "No Mom, it's my sign," she replied seriously. "You will have to make your own." Maybe I will. Anything
that stops her sister from tearing through the bathroom door at warp speed,
or from yelling through the wood is nothing short of a miracle. But I'll
disguise my handwriting, or hire another kindergartener to make it. After
all, if they knew it was me in there, the sign wouldn't make a difference,
now would it? Copyright 1996 Susan M. Lang The
Happy Craftsman - Lost In Time - Picture
Perfect Cleaning
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