It's a wonder I get clean at all

I always love hearing about the lives of stay-at-home mothers on t.v. talk shows. My particular favorite is when they're on Oprah because she acts horrified, mystified, and amazed all at the same time. Usually this reaction is elicited from her when she hears about the hygienic practices of mothers. Some women only take the time to pee twice a day. GASP! Others forget to brush their teeth. OH THE HORROR! Still some choose to wear sweatpants and a ponytail in lieu of showering. ALERT THE MEDIA ON THIS OFFENSE AGAINST THE UNIVERSE.

Oprah always acts like it's the poor woman's fault that she does these things. It's not her fault. No one in her right mind would choose to only pee twice a day or live with fuzz on her teeth. She must do this because she has children. I'd like to share my experience with Oprah to illustrate exactly why most mothers feel the need to forget the shower entirely.

It was Friday afternoon. I had been cleaning the house all day in yoga pants, a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail, but I did have clean teeth. J had just gotten home from school and I needed to shower and get ready to go shopping with a friend that night.
O was taking a nap, and so J, L and K were downstairs watching PBS Kids. Looking back, I should've just snuck off because they wouldn't have realized I was gone, but I made the stupid mistake of saying, "I'll be in the shower."

This is code to children for, "Please come into the bathroom 40 times in a 15 minute period and interrogate me with questions."

So, I'm showering, life is good. I hear someone shuffling outside the door. I'm pretty sure it's J because while he doesn't mind bombarding me with questions while I'm showering, he does try to be polite about it. Then I hear:

"Um, can L and I go outside and play baseball?"

"Yes."

Door shuts. I return to showering.

Door opens.

"Mommy? (this time it's L) J wanted me to go outside. Do I have to wear a coat?

"Yes."

Door shuts.

Door opens.

"I have a question (J is now back) I need to practice my trombone, but should I do it now, or should I wait until I get done playing outside."

Getting mildly annoyed at this point, I tell him to go outside and take his brother with him.

Several moments of peace and quiet elapse and then the door opens. Now K has entered the show.

"MOMMY!?" (she's yelling to be heard over the water)

"Yes, K."

"MOMMY!?"

"Yes, K."

"Mommy, me want to watch t.v."

"I want to watch t.v," I reply, stressing the correct pronoun.

"Silly Mommy, you can't watch t.v., you're in the shower."

Insert scream of frustration here.

"K, isn't the t.v. already on?"

"J turned it off when went he went outside."

I had two choices at this point. Either have her wait for me to get out of the shower which would mean that she would stand in the bathroom asking me if I was done over and over again, or I could send her on a mission to find her brother. So, I told her, "Open the front door and ask J to turn on the t.v."

A few minutes pass and I think I'm in the clear when I hear footsteps.

"Mommy? K told me that she wanted to watch t.v. Is that ok?"

This is really too much I say to myself. There should not be a revolving door on my bathroom! I stuck my head out of the curtain and hissed, "Yes, it is ok. Why wouldn't it be ok? You all were watching t.v. just a few minutes ago and it was ok! You turned the t.v. off when you went outside and now your sister wants to watch it, so please, please, please turn it back on!"

"Sorry," he says in a sad voice.

Great, now I have guilt.

"Mommy?" (now L is back)

"What could you possibly need?"

The following will be written phonetically the way L talks because it's much more effective that way.

"Mommy, I don't want to pway outside with J anymore because I'm a yiddle cold. Ok? It's a yiddle cold outside. Why didn't you tell me it was a yiddle cold? I wore my jacket, but it was the one Grandma Leah got me for Cwismas yast year and that one isn't vaywee warm. I need my blue one out of the closet, but J told me that I would be fine in my other one. J is going to pwactice his trombone now, so should I watch him or can I pway on the computer for a yiddle bit? If it's ok, can I pway golf?

Right now, having soap drip into my eye would be less torture than this constant interruption.

"L, you can play on the computer. In fact, please don't even bother your brother because he doesn't like it when you sing along with him as he plays his trombone. And no standing in the hallway dancing either. Just go downstairs and play golf."

"Thank you, Mommy. You're nice. When we go to Yuke and Yora's house (translation: Luke and Laura's house) tonight, will you be there? Nope, that's right you and Yora are going shopping. I'm going to play with Yuke and Daddy. I haven't seen Yuke in a yong yong (long, long) time and I can't wait to play with him."

"L?"

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Please go play on the computer now."

"Ok, Mommy."

Finally, I got out of the shower only to discover I had only one leg shaved. Funny, since I distinctly remembered shaving twice and then it hit me.

I had shaved the same leg twice.

And Oprah wonders why stay-at-home mothers don't shower. Come spend a day with me, Oprah, and it will all be crystal clear.