Friday, September 9, 2011

I don't want to be the kind of mom who puts a timer in the bathroom....

but I'm about to become the kind of mom who puts a timer in the bathroom. Seriously.

For the last four years, we've lived in Georgia where we had a 4 bed, 3 bath home.  I thought I appreciated the amount of space we had, but now I REALLY appreciate it.  In May we decided to move back to my hometown temporarily while my husband is in school in OK.  Since we are going to be moving to Texas in December, we went ahead and sent our belongings to be stored in Texas.  Thinking it would be better for everyone for us to have our own place while we were here, I rented an apt.  A very small apt.  It seemed to make sense, especially considering the fact that I had no furniture with me haha.  **sigh**

Ok, so it still makes sense.  We have borrowed some items of furniture from family members, but no one had enough extra beds lying around to furnish a four bedroom home here, and I'm sure as heck not buying what I already have sitting in storage in another state!  There's just one problem.  I feel like the little, old woman who lived in a shoe...  I actually said that aloud one day which prompted the following comments:

Parker to Will:  And you're the bug in a rug.

Will to Parker:  Well you're the butt in a hut.

Anywho- while I'm grateful- oh so grateful- for being here now, I feel a little bit like I'm on an extended camping trip.  BTW, I'm not a huge fan of camping unless restrooms are provided, and with one bathroom for four people, that's sometimes not a reality....

Especially in the morning.  I suppose if we had unlimited bathrooms and unlimited hot water, I wouldn't have an issue with Will and his 20 minutes showers.  Unfortunately, neither of those apply.  For one thing, people have to pee in the morning.  Shocking, I know.  In Will's defense, he does set his alarm to get up before everyone else so he can get his business outta the way, but when you gotta go,  you gotta go...  The scene from this morning:

As I'm squinting, trying to adjust to daylight and the day in general, I catch a glimpse of Parker outta the corner of my eye.  She's doing what I like to call the potty dance.

Parker:  Mom, I have to go to the bathroom and  Will's in there!

Me:  Well, I guess you'll just have to wait.

Parker:  (hopping from foot to foot with a look of extreme agony on her face, because apparently that helps) But I have to go now!

Me:  Ok, well we only have one bathroom....  Are you wanting a bucket, or what?  (I'm not so very gracious before noonish.)

Parker:  No, I just have to go, but he's in there.

At this point, I'm wondering exactly what I'm missing.  I'm tracking that Parker has to pee and Will is in the bathroom... What I'm not tracking is how this is my problem.  **sigh**

Me:  (knocking on the bathroom door)   Will, hurry up, Parker needs to use the bathroom!

Will:  (yelling from the shower) Well I set my alarm to get up early.

Me:  (puzzled look on my face... wondering what that has to do with the price of tea in China...)  Ok, well that's great, but she still has to pee, so can you hurry up?

Will:  (grumbling unintelligibly)

I go back to my room...  Two seconds later, the potty dance is once again taking place in my peripheral, and I'm debating telling her to walk to the bleepin' gas station haha.  I didn't.  But I'm not gonna lie, it crossed my mind.  

Will finally emerges from the bathroom, grumpy look on his face and all, and Parker manages to get her business done.  I'm still irritated though, because quite honestly, I can't even imagine how I would fill up 20 minutes of time in the shower.  I mean you get in, you get wet, you soap up, you rinse off.  How long can that take??! 

Soo yeah... I'm about to set a timer in the morning, and I'm considering investing in a Port-a-Potty.  I don't think my neighbors would mind too much...  I'm sure this will all result in my kids sitting in front of a therapist someday telling about the atrocities of having a time limit on bathing, but at least it will keep them alive, and quite frankly, I'm sure I've done worse for them to complain about...

This just in from Jace:

Mom, can you help me take my shirt off?  (Holds up hands, clearly covered in vaseline which is a MAJOR no!)  I have hot dogs on my hands. 

**sigh**  I'm trying not to feel offended by what he thinks of my intelligence.  He is only 3 after all.


  1. Oh my gosh...are you living at my house? One bathroom...7 people, well right now 6, since Mike is deployed. And what is it with teenage boys and long showers? My 17 year old took a 13 minute shower the other day and I was happy. That's very rare...20 minutes at least...every day. It gets ugly around here. :p

  2. Ummm Thomas has a theory as to why 17 year old boys take 20 minute showers, but I will spare you the trauma that I felt....

  3. I have hot dogs on my hands. I am so using that in class.