I guess I’m asking a time old question from mothers everywhere since the invention of indoor plumbing. Why does it seem that nobody really needs us until we’re on the toilet?
I home school my children, so I’m with them ALL of the time. Their lessons keep them busy and I am able most of the time to get housework done without too many interruptions. (Their curriculum helps them learn to self-teach, so I’m only on hand to clarify.) Anyway, I can actually go most of the school day without being asked very many school related questions.
Let me just give you today’s example. They began the school day at 9 am after feeding their animals, beginning their chores, and eating breakfast. I snuck in some quiet time and paid some bills. After which I felt the need for a few minutes of “sit down” time.
(Now, I believe that I’m like every other human on the face of the planet who likes to be left alone during this time of deep reflection. It should be a time of quiet contemplation. Sometimes it requires deep concentration. The last thing we need is to have to answer complex questions. Should I always be so readily accessible? I tend to think not.)
Now, if the question had something to do with multiplication or synergy or gassification (snicker) my response would have been much different than, “Can this NOT wait until I’m off the toilet???”
Here’s what happened. I barely sat myself upon the throne before my youngest was at the hallway leading to my bathroom asking a question that I’m embarrassed to say I don’t even remember, because I was so irritated that the questioning had begun so quickly. I answered it quickly and he left. A minute or so later, here comes the oldest.
“Mom, what are we doing Saturday?” It is currently Thursday. “Why do you need to know?” I asked resignedly while sighing loudly.
“Well, a boy in my Sunday School Class is having his birthday party then and I’m invited. I’d like to go to town and buy him something. Can we go now?” he questioned hopefully.
“Well, I’m currently busy doing something else, and the school day isn’t quite over yet, son.” I reminded him, hoping that he would take the subtle hint. “How old is he anyway? Do you know what he would like?” Yes, I’m still sitting down. And, it hits me that I gave him the hint and didn’t even give him time to process and run with it before I began questioning him. They’re sneaky like that, you know. Crafty at getting you to ask more questions so that they are no longer the bad guys!
“I dunno. Maybe you should call his grandmother and ask her what he would like.” he said, like it was no big deal.
With my teeth somewhat clenched and adding as much irony to my voice as I possibly could, I said, ” “I” should call her?”
“Well, I guess I could do that. Here’s the birthday card mom, would you like to read it?” as he stretches his arm down the hallway, in an attempt to keep from seeing me on the throne. The card almost makes it to the corner, so that I would have to give up my position in order to retrieve it. I stared at it a second wanting to grab it and tear it into little pieces, except I desperately do not want to give up my position at the moment. Then the little card begins to wave at me. “You gonna look at it, mom?
That is when I said, “Can this NOT wait until I’m off the toilet??? Saturday is two days away! I think we can talk about his later.” I know I probably should have led with those words, but I guess I’m thinking that after 14 years they would leave me alone when I’m in there. I mean, there are twenty-four hours in a day. I’m on the stinkin’ toilet maybe a total of 10 minutes a day, and they pick those minutes to want to talk!
I guess I should be happy that they are no longer coming in there and wanting to jump up on my lap for a hug. There are no longer chubby little fingers waggling under the door.
No, here’s a picture of the little critter that wants to come in and be petted now. He’s the one who usually is laying at the corner waiting for me to finish so we can play. Apparently, there is no place of rest and relaxation for mothers. I am resigned.