Private Jurl, They're Watching You

Jurrrrrrls. My house has been plagued with typhoid or something equally terrible. First the baby had RSV then Samantha had a "death cold" and then the baby had pink eye. Combine all that with the holiday season and, well, there isn't much time for writing a blog, but here's a quick hit so you won't forget me.

I'd always heard that once you have children you lose all privacy, but the full impact of that statement doesn't register until you actually lose all of your privacy to your children.

My daughter follows me everywhere I go and asks lots of fun questions about what I'm doing with the additional bonus of her color commentary.

For instance, I can no longer go to the bathroom in private.

"Mommy, what are you doing?"

"Well, Sherlock, what's it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to go to the bathroom."

"Mommy, are you going poo poo?"

"None ya business, now get out of here."

"You're stinky."

"Well, it's only gonna get worse so would you please go see what your father is doing?"

"O.K." She walks away yelling, "Daddy! Mommy's going poo poo and she's stinky!!!"

Thirty seconds later she returns. "Mommy, what are you doing?"

ARRRRRRGGGHHHH! I'm trying to poop! Which I rarely do so can I please just enjoy this moment I'm having with my porcelain friend, the toilet!!

I have also lost the privilege of showering alone. Sam loves the water and has some sort of dolphin like sonar for the sound of it. I promise you, she could be outside in the yard, but as soon as I turn on the water she'll hear it and come running. Before I even have my hair wet I've got a naked three year old coming through the shower door.

Now, my house was built in the 1960s so the bathroom is small and the shower is real small. It's one of those corner showers, so you can barely fit one adult in there comfortably much less an adult with a pint-sized bath buddy. But despite the close quarters Sam loves to shower with me. Sadly, this usually means disaster for one of us. For me it's the random insults she hurls.

"Mom, I don't want to see your bagina (think vagina with a b at the front)!" Can I help it that at her height she's eye level with the lady parts?!

"Mom, you're real stinky." Again, can I help it that her height puts her at ass level?!

"Mom, are you lumpy?" Well, if you have to ask.....

On the flip side, Sam almost lost her life in there once. She was behind me singing, "ploopy ploopy you're a ploopy" while I was washing my parts. I went to wash my crevasse (a.k.a., my butt) when to my horror I felt a huge wad of hair. For a second I thought I'd grown a Mohawk in my butt crack only to realize I'd swooped up my poor child's hair in an attempt to clean the dark recesses of my rear-endus.
She could have gotten trapped in there and suffocated!

I felt terrible about washing my butt with my daughter's hair, but like I said, she's at ass level and I really can't be blamed.

You're probably wondering why I don't just lock her out and the answer is b/c I can't stand the meltdown that would surely follow. I'd rather hear about the funk in my junk then listen to her screaming to get in to be with me.

Besides, someday soon she won't want any part of showers with me or lots of other close time that I do enjoy, so for now, I'm just grinning and bearing this theft of my privacy.

But if she gets stuck in my butt, that's it!