How do they always know?
They'll be happily ensconced on the couch, watching The Backyardigans. Or playing with trains in their room. Or eating a yummy snack. They should be content. They should stay put.
And then, invariably, just as I'm nice and nekkid, they walk in.
It doesn't seem to matter WHY I'm clothing-free at the time. I'll be in the shower, or just getting in, or just getting out. I'll be getting dressed in the walk-in. I'll be, Mr. Hanky help me, settling down for a nice leisurely--er, um, session--on the toilet.
It's all quite innocent on my part, you see. It's not like I'm running the place like it's Hedonism II (Hey, never been--just honeymooned down the beach a ways. Stop looking at me like that!) I'm just doing the ordinary everyday things that people do in their homes, generally in the area of the bathroom. And my little nosey parkers always manage to choose that particular time to locate me, because, apparently, that is exactly when The Widget suddenly needs a hug or DramaBoy has a pressing question that Cannot Wait, Mommy!
This was all very well and good when they were small beings who could barely remember how to put one foot in front of the other without rediscovering gravity. Time passed, and I kept convincing myself they wouldn't remember much of what they saw, and it was all natural and all, right? Even when the inevitable questions started regarding the differences between my body and theirs (after all, I'm the odd female out around here), I just answered them and figured it was all a good anatomy lesson.
(I'm still not sure DramaBoy understands how my body can possibly operate with such different plumbing. He gets worried about whether or not I can actually pee without a penis. I just explain I am built differently and can indeed accomplish this important task. I decline to show him the details.)
But...DramaBoy is turning four in just over two weeks, and he has become very much Boy lately. And I cannot continue to pretend he will not remember things, because that child has a mind and memory like a steel trap (well, for the things he wants to remember.) I'm starting to wonder just how much I really want him to remember about me in all my Botticelli glory.
Especially when it involves the toilet.
I've been trying to teach them about the need for privacy, but so far that seems to result in More Privacy For Them and no discernible difference in the level of Privacy For Me. I mean, by all means I am happy not to have to wipe DramaBoy's behind all the time, but doing laundry can be a bit disconcerting these days.
The other day I decided enough was enough and dared to (gasp) lock the doors to the bathroom.
I know.
Those hypersensitive ears of theirs must have heard the tiny clicks, because within nanoseconds there was a knocking on the door.
Mama? I need to come in!
No, DramaBoy. Mama needs some privacy!
Why is the door LOCKED, Mama?
Because I want some privacy, DramaBoy!!
But MAMA, I need to go POTTY!
Go downstairs. There's a perfectly good potty down there.
But I WANT to go potty in THERE!
No, DramaBoy!
But MAMA!!! I NEED to come IN!!!!
NO, DramaBoy!!!!
And then, of course, the wailing and gnashing of teeth began. Which was then magnified tenfold by The Widget, who was attracted to the scene of the crime and went into full blown Panicked Mama's Boy mode when he realized a wooden door was thwarting him from attaching himself to my nearest body part.
(Which is disconcerting when you're trying to--ahem--process things. Just sayin'.)
So tonight when I tucked DramaBoy into my bed because he has a touch of croup and I'll need to keep an ear out for his breathing, I denied his request to sleep nekkid, as is his wont. After all, I'll be next to him all night. There are lines, people.
Truth be told, he gets that from me. I just don't sleep clothing-optional much these days.
Not sure why I even care that much about these minor points of propriety. Because at this point their future therapists are already going to have a field day.
Am I the only one who experiences all this? Because if I am, I think I might take up showering in my bathing suit.
At least that way I won't keep bashing my delicate parts with various toiletries in my desperate attempts to maintain the dignity my progeny stole from me years ago.
8 bits of love:
I think it's a boy thing. My son seems to have radar for when Mom is getting dressed. Or needs to use the lav. It's not like I don't shut doors...
Oh, no, you're not alone. And I have to agree with DraftQueen that it's a boy thing. My 9yo daughter has finally discovered privacy--she likes it for herself and for the most part doles it out. My boys, however, could care less. They burst in on me at all times, and if I let them, they'd tear around the house nekkid so everyone could see their thang.
I lock the door. But of course mine are a little older. If there was an emergency, my oldest would be able to handle it until I got out of the shower.
All of this said, my boys HAVE gotten better about respecting my privacy. There is less BURSTING in and more standing at the door crack peeking and talking inward. So there is hope!!
I think it's terribly disconcerting to have your naked body discussed in front of you. Or hearing your own private parts given pet names such as "bum bum" when I loathe euphemisms.
And being a big size atm, with a belly that means I can no longer share a shower, means that I'm all the more fascinating.
Of course, having your naked body discussed in front of OTHERS is much worse!
Um…think twice, ladies. I have three expert lock pickers, children who feel the need to visit me the instant I sit on the throne, or step into the shower, or out of the shower. They can pop open the locked doors in this house. The worst offender is the girl. When she arrives, it isn’t for a quick, “Hey, how are ya’ doin’?” safety check. She’s there for a pull-up- a-chair, sit-and- chat session. This isn’t a gender issue, it is an age issue. Older boys, especially pre-teen boys, understand the need for privacy.
I have two daughters, so the whole privacy/nudity thing is not as big a deal as if I had two boys. I mean, our parts are the same so not so many questions/worries/concerns. But, neither of my girls has any regard to my privacy and it drives me crazy some times. Being able to be in the bathroom undisturbed for any task great or small is a luxury.
Left you another award over at Treasured Chapters.
privacy? what's that?
i gave up. threw in the towel. there is no escaping my kids. if my 4 yo son wants to hang around in my room while i'm getting dressed, it's too exhausting to fight that fight to get him to bugger off.
i do get just a wee, slight bit annoyed when he sticks his hand on my belly and says things like, "mommy, you have a fat tummy" and then proceeds to jiggle my belly fat.
It is not a boy thing. The children learn to respect my privacy as they grow, regardless of gender. They WILL naturally start to become embarrassed as the approach puberty, and with a little calm, gentle guidance, they can learn it before.
What I typically get is the wiggling fingers under the bathroom door.
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