Friday, July 18, 2008

privacy: a rare commodity.

privacy is a difficult commodity to come by in the land of mommyhood. in fact, one of my favorite aspects of my part time employment is that i get to make frequent visits to the ladies' room. alone.
virginia woolfe declared that for a woman to write, she needed money. and a room of her own. it goes with out saying, she never had children. at my house, the only room that's my own is the bathroom when and if i can sneak away and lock myself in. even then, the pitter patter of little feet is never far behind. followed closely by the knocking on the door. (they've found me.) these days, it's almost always parker, who comes to perform his inquisition in broken [two and a half year old] english. he is in his inquisitive phase, wanting to know the how and why of every single thing he sees, hears, feels, and thinks every second of the day. my futile escapes to the bathroom are no different: "mommy?"... "mommyyy?!" [it's no use not answering. he has, by process of investigation and elimation, tracked me down. and he is just as relentless once he's cornered me. he will stand and knock and yell, "mommyyy?" with increasing intensity in that sweet little voice of his until i give in.] "yes, parker?" - "what you doing?" - "i'm using the bathroom. i'll be out in a minute, okay." - "okay... pause... whyyy?". regardless of my answer or my best attempt to distract or divert him, as soon as we finish the conversation, there is always a brief pause, a pause just long enough to make me think he has finally accepted it and gone back to play. then the knocking. he asks, as if it's the first time ever... "mommy?"... "mommy? what you doing?". we repeat this conversation over and over until i open the door....

....and see THIS FACE. undoubtedly, the cutest, sweetest, kissiest, squeeziest little face i've ever seen.
and then i giggle. and then he giggles. he is genuinely happy to see me. and i smile, knowing i can sacrifice a little privacy, or all of it, for moments just like that.

2 comments:

  1. I know this scenario all to well myself!!! They don't stop it after preschool either; my "tween" aged son still follows me wanting to talk even after I shut and lock the door. You'll always be mommy and they'll always need to know where you are and what you're doing. Always. I heart your bloggerific posts, Nod, keep 'em coming!!!

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  2. yes, I know these too. My children would try to look under the door, turn the door knobs and my youngest Gage would ask why can't I come in there too. He has been with me since birth, I haven't had to work with him so, once he starts school it's gonna be bittersweet for me. I hope he doesn't cry because I will break down in the school with him. hehehehe ~

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