The Shower Situation

The other night, my mom called to invite me over for a family get together. As usual, I was being my funny and snarky self when I accepted the offer, “I’ll be there, and I might even shower first!” to which Mom replied, “What is it with you moms nowadays not having time for a shower? When you and your brother were little I still found time to bathe regularly. Just take a shower!”

My mom wasn’t trying to give me “the business”. This wasn’t one of those, “when I was a kid I walked uphill, in the snow, both ways to school” speeches. This was my mother’s real observation of the current state of parenting, which is kind of fascinating. When did bathing become the holy grail for the SAHM? I know I’m not alone in this. I hear it from other moms ALL THE TIME. When did it become more difficult for me to start running water, strip down to my birthday suit and wash my bits, than it is for me to keep up a humor blog, raise a family, keep a house, and keep my sanity?

That’s when it hit me. Fucking Ouch!! No, the baby, literally, flung a sippy cup at me and it clocked me in the face… just now.

As I assessed the damage to my puffy eye, and went to get some ice (for my wine) the epiphany hit me. I’m a hands-on, no-holds-barred, in-your-face, mom. The only times my children are confined are when they are napping, which seems like never, and when they do finally drift off to la-la land, the last thing I feel like doing is showering. I feel like reading a book, or watching a show, or scrolling through Facebook or…. ANYTHING, BUT SHOWERING.

Is it the nudity? Is it the hot/cold thing? Is it the fact that I desperately need to clean my shower? Possibly. It could also be a sign that I have very little to shower for. I mean, if my clothes are clean and I’ve sink washed the important “parts” it’s not like I’m having tea with the Queen anytime soon. Come to think of it, if the Queen did invite me to tea I’m sure she’d realize that I’d probably show up: sans-shower, in reversible yoga pants, with baby spit-up on my shirt. The Queen wouldn’t want to hang with me for my clean hair. I won’t hold my breath for that invite.

And here’s the thing… I’m not a “dirty girl” (well, I have a filthy mind but that’s a whole different post). I’m just a super busy girl. Like, right this second, I’m writing this post with one hand, signing my kid’s homework planner with the other hand and taking a break from writing to open a cheese stick wrapper with both hands while I re-position the baby to be far away from the rock garden because rocks aren’t food. Be right back.

In a couple of years all my kids will be in school, and I’ll start bathing on the regular – I promise, mom – but until then… until then, its clean clothes, hair with dry shampoo (which totally doesn’t work on me, by the way) and sink baths. Parenting small kids is starting to remind me a lot like my twenties, except with less going out and more wine.

We are definitely gonna need more wine.

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