Stop the Insanity!

Today I'd like to talk about something very important.  This can be a touchy subject and it's not something people like to talk about. I feel like it needs to be put on the table and discussed because I know that other people are going through the same thing. I won't be naming names due to privacy issues.   There is no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it: The bathroom is a place of solace and should not be used as the conversation parlor or the observatory. 

I have not used the bathroom by myself in SIX YEARS! SIX YEARS! I would love to go into my bathroom and not see anyone else's face or hear anyone else's voice.  Just once.  Just once, I would love 5 minutes alone without someone coming in to ask me what I am doing.  It's a strange phenomenon because when I come home no one wants to talk, no one can even remember what they did all day. I can go into the bathroom and within 2 seconds Chatty Cathy can remember every conversation that was ever conversed. And suddenly they even remember what they had for lunch.  (I still think they serve roofies at school.) They are even caring and want to know how my day was.  Sometimes these people will even bring a stool in to make themselves more comfortable to carry on the conversation.  Now other times, conversation is not what they want and they want to play games.  Mostly,  it's a twisted peek a boo game that consists of the peeker peeking and me screaming to GET OUT.  To try to ward off these intruders I try to keep my answers to all questions short one word answers. I am hoping those people/or person will get the hint.  Normally they don't. On the rare occasion that I don't have face to face time with these people, they like to stand outside the door and yell questions.  Usually it's "Where's this?" or "How do I find that?" or "HUH?" whenever I don't answer.  That is rare because most of the time they just like to look at me when asking me these questions. I do not want to draw a picture while I am here.  I do not want to play Nintendo.  I do not want to discuss the relationship dramas of a Kindergarten class.  I do not want to talk about stocks or bonds or retirement.  I would love to just be left with my own thoughts and my Southern Living.  But,  I must be the most beautiful thing they have ever seen as they just stare and sigh.  My protests fall on deaf ears because no matter how much I scream, shout, spit or curse, it does no good.  I know some of you are wondering why I just don't lock the doors.  I wish it was that simple.  You just don't understand - I live with Houdini's. They can pick any lock known to man.  They may not be able to find their own socks or be able to tie their own shoe but by golly they can use a bobby pin and a dust bunny to create a key. Their MacGyver skills do not impress me.  Not at all.  I have tried to reason with these people.  I have begged.  I have cried and I have bribed them.  They do not listen.  Threatening them with their little lives only leaves them with one option. 

And then a new game begins. The "Can You See My Hand" game.   I just sigh, resolve that God really must have a sense of humor and decide that there must be a support group that deals with this sort of thing.  I must go join it. 

'Til Tomorrow

* I cannot take credit for this pic... it's a stock photo... I usually am not carrying a camera while I am in the bathroom, but I'm glad to see this is a common occurrence. 

I Love Laundry!

I'm baaaackkk! I know some of you have been wondering what I have been doing and if I was still going to blog.  Honestly, I didn't intend on neglecting my blog this long.  I have been very busy and the writing just wasn't on the days agenda.  Now, what in the world is so important that I would not blog and inform all you good people on the boring details of my life? Well I'm gonna tell ya. Mostly I have been doing laundry. I'm not talking about a few loads - I mean hard core laundry.  Night and day - day and night.  From sun up to sun down.  Every waking moment I wash, dry, fold, put up, iron - the whole schmear.  I have developed tennis elbow from all the ironing and I have blisters from all the folding.  I even make my own detergent and hand wash at least 50% of our clothes.  Laundry has become my life.   I eat, sleep and breathe laundry. My hamper looks so lonely and smells fresh too.   OK, well maybe that was an exaggeration.  Maybe I haven't actually done laundry.  Maybe I tried.  Maybe I pulled it out of the hamper onto the bathroom floor and left it there for days until my husband got tired of stepping on it and put it back up.  Then maybe I pulled it out again and this time sorted it and then washed only the bare necessities. Maybe I washed a few loads then piled them on the couch waiting for someone to fold them.  Maybe I "fluffed" the load I had in the dryer for 8 hours waiting for the couch to open up again.
 OK, that was probably how it really went. Y'all know I can't lie to you.  I did have good intentions.   The laundry isn't done, but I listen to my baby every night read her homework.  I also get to step out my back door and see my baby brother in his yard and a cute blonde by his side.  From my window I get to see my dear old dad fly by and hear a honk as he goes by for at least the 14th time that day.  I'm back to getting my expected visits from Henry P at least 3 times in a weekend. I get to call my mom and love the fact she is just down road not in a hotel room. I get to watch as my neighbors use their front yard as a dirt track again.  I get to see all those creek checkers slowly ride by on their daily outing.  I get to sit down every night with my family. Yeah, I may not have all the laundry done, but we have clean towels and that's all that matters. 

'Til Tomorrow