It has been awhile I bathed alone.
My daughter runs to the bathroom whenever she hears I’m running the water. ‘Mommy can I come in?’ How dare I say no? I don’t. She comes in. She is now 9 years.
My son has replaced her.
‘Mommy, as you happen to be there, can I come in?’ he asks.
I still dare not to say no.
As you happen. See, our dining table sits in the middle of kitchen. If you are sitting on the other side, you can reach the fridge. If you are sitting on the opposite side, you can reach cups, glasses, plates and flatware. It is more than often your eating is postponed because you are asked ‘a glass please’, ‘can I have a knife’. Yes, I am sitting on that side. After the 9th attempt to place a foody fork to your mouth, I normally loose nerves. ’Oh please!’ At one such point my sweetest youngest tried his very best of asking as soft as possible.
‘Mommy, as you happen to sit there, could you give me a cup?’.
It was cute; ‘as you happen to sit there’. How dare I say no? I did not. I said ‘but that was a nice way to ask, good of you, you 4-years-old!’ and tapped his shoulder. He was very proud, I could tell from his face.
Ever after when somebody will ask super softly, they start ‘mommy as you happen to’.
I happen very much.
Keeping this in mind whenever I am feeling being a total failure as a mother.
I cannot be!
They bath with me!
It’s a metaphor also. They bath with me; I don’t control my privacy. I don’t control my body either, I don’t control my identity. ‘I would like a hot bubble bath with this dofting soap!’ (…Because I am so damn tired and I hate the world and I need to know there is still something nice like this Armani Idole shower gel). ’No mommy no, the bubbles don’t like me and I don’t like hot water!’
Warmish unbubbled baths.
It is my sacrifice. A lame effort to keep up balance with my time, split to family and work.