Wednesday, March 25, 2009


I swear, if this happens one more time, I will LOSE. IT. My bowels can't take the stress. A daily occurance:

I walk in to the bathroom and lock the door. I seat myself upon the throne and choose my reading material, even if I'm only going to be "going number one". (Bail now, kids, if this is too much for you.) Suddenly, I hear the distant rumble of whelp feet. They jiggle the door. They stick their faces along the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor to see if my feet are in evidence.

"Mom?" Inhale. Exhale. Random hairs flutter across the tiles with their breaths.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be out in a minute!" I yell back. I return to my reading.

And then my kids prove why they are smarter than monkeys. They go to the OTHER door into the bathroom, that blasted why-the-hell-did-anyone-even-invent-it Jack and Jill door. (Our bathroom, mind you, is little bigger than a linen closet. It does NOT warrant two doors.) The J&J is the door that slides like a sliding glass door into the wall. It has no door knob, just a metal groove with a pitiful clasp that it "supposed" to keep the door shut if you don't want anyone coming in. My kids have figured out how to hitch the clasp up, unlock the J&J door, and slide it open. They enter, smiling in triumph, but, upon seeing my scowl and bared teeth, they change it to an innocent expression.

"I have to go to the bathroom!" they howl suddenly.

"Go downstairs!" I bark back.

"I can't make it in time!"

They do this constantly. They don't like the downstairs bathroom because the idiot who built it put the light switch halfway across the room and it's big and dark and has spiders in the summer. They only use the downstairs bathroom if the light is already on and people are dowstairs to offer spider support.

So now, I have to rush my bowels, wipe like I'm trying to start a fire without matches, and get out of the way before they pee or poop their pants.

I'm sick. and. tired. of. this. crap. Literally, haha. I plan to put buckets in their rooms so that I can finally have a BM in peace.


  1. Funny, my latest post is about poop, too.

    Seriously, though. I can't remember the last tine I was left alone in the bathroom. Sam can't get in, but the constant knocking and whining is annoying enough.

    Also, love that you read while just peeing. Pretty sure that if it wasn't for the crapper, I'd never get any reading done.

  2. And isn't it sad that when you finally do, get that one moment to shit in's feels like a godsend...clouds parting, angels choir singing...who ever knew that crapping could ever feel so freaking good?

    When I was a kid, there were six kids, 2 adults and 1 bathroom. I DID have a bucket in the shed that I took care of business in...don't judge me!

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  4. SHIT, i TOTALLY should have mentioned you in my post today, too lindsey! i think i'll do an "EDIT TO ADD".

    i feel you. BOY, HOWDY! we have a tiny little "powder room" located in the foyer, which is my "crap-post" as i call it on weekend mornings. i go in there with my Washington Post Magazine, shut the door AND LOCK IT (nate knows how to open doors, keira doesn't) and within SECONDS, i am bombarded with "MOMMA! MOMMMMMMMAA! Mommy! Mommmmy!" sometimes gorton pipes up and says something like, "mommy's going potty. don't bother her! give her 2 minutes!" but that doesn't help. the little brats get me every...single...time.


  5. Ironically as I was reading this Hannah came bounding into my room to announce she had to pee in my bathroom. Apparently the adorable fishy motif in their bathroom can't compare to my sad little shit closet with the broken toilet seat.

    Oh and what I wouldn't give to use the bathroom without little fingers wiggling under the door or a running commentary on the smells and sounds coming out of my bathroom.

  6. Wow- thanks for taking me back a few years! since my kids are grown, you'd think I'd be past this problem...and while I don't have little fingers waggling under the door, or noses breathing thru a 1/2 crack, my kids ALWAYS seem to need soemthing when I'm either in the bathroom or on the joke. Its like my attention was diverted from them for a millisecond too long and they will do whatever it takes to get it all back on them.
    my kids are just spoiled rotten...and its 7:30am and I'm thinking about cracking open a bottle of wine...not really, but it sounds good :)
    ok really.

  7. LINDSEY HOLY FUCKING SHIT....I was poking around in my Google Reader and it still has posts from your old blog on that some crazy shit or what?

  8. MOFM - I know, even if you lock the door and they can't get in, they howl at the top of their lungs until you emerge.

    Audra - I revel in potty time when I'm on the road and in a hotel room by myself. I really do.

    Mary - send some of that wine this way!

    Harmony - REALLY????? I can't find my stuff ANYWHERE!!!

  9. me at and I can copy and paste the stories you want.

  10. WHY WHY WHY do they not bother you all day until the second your cheeks hit the toilet seat?
    It is like they are Jedi's and feel a disturbance in the force.
    Pooping, shower, naps...never when I am doing something useless.

  11. Dude. Our downstairs 1/2 bath is mine. It is sacred, and it is unsullied by the masses. Bill has started referring to it as Mommy's Special Place. IDGAF. My cheeks are the only ones that touch that seat, and anyone who interrupts does so knowing they might now retain all their limbs.

    Because I am with you. Leave me to poop - it's my only alone time.

  12. You're kidding! Thank goodness the only think I have to deal with is Goofy, our cat, trying to grab my socks under the door (it's hilarious). I don't know what I'd do if someone tried to disturb me, it's hard enough having one bathroom when Loverboy takes an hour just checking email, youtube, and god knows what else. I'm starting to time him now, pretty sad. First thing after he fixes the center of our sinking money pit is putting in another bathroom...I swear!


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