When Reality Walks In ...

My husband was home, the baby was fed, our toddler was occupied and I was going to shower, alone.

I probably used a tank of hot water. It was quiet and I was able to think. I started writing a blog post in my head. I fantasized about getting out of the shower, pouring a glass of wine, curling up on the couch under a warm blanket and reading a book.

As soon as I turned the shower off I heard the door knob turning. I waited for my toddler to rush in yelling that he had to pee. Instead he just stood there, waving away my luxurious steam with his toy sword, complaining that it was too smokey. He had left the door ajar and the warmth slowly vacated the room.

My husband distracted him and he darted away. Thirty more seconds of peace and then he barged in again. He wondered why his small plastic sword couldn't cut through the towel rack. He wondered why it couldn't cut through his corduroy pants. I wondered why I couldn't have just five more minutes alone in my steamy bathroom.

Soon I heard the baby fussing in the kitchen. The fuss turned into a cry and I went into hyper mode finishing up as quickly as possible. My final task was to blow dry my hair. I did so while my toddler, husband and five-month old stood outside of the bathroom waiting, not quite patiently. I sang and danced. Distracting them bought me thirty more seconds of hair drying.

And then it was over. The baby was in my arms and our toddler was trying to climb on me. My fantasy evaporated with the steam.