I have 2 friends who are pregnant with their first baby. And for some reason they seem to think I know what I'm doing because I have three kids so they ask questions (although the real secret is I don't know what I'm doing most of the time). But it got me thinking about how much life changes. I was thinking about what they don't tell you when you are about to become a parent for the first time. Like how bathrooms and bathroom related issues play such an important role in everyday life. The sheer amount of time and energy I've spent on bathroom issues in my almost 12 years of being a Mom is mind boggling. And it's not just the fact that once you are a Mom you are willing to shove your nose right in the bottom of a young child to see if they are stinky, or that you just accept calls of "I need help wiping" as a part of daily life. The bathroom stuff just seems to take over your life once you become a Mom.
First there's dealing with newborn daily pee and poop schedules (and cleaning). I remember the chart I brought home from the hospital when I had Kyle, to keep track of feeding and diaper changes. Being super-keen-on-top-of-everything-new-mom I added extra columns because once it ended I felt I still needed to track each little incident. That's the first child...with the second and third it was more of a "eh, they seem to be eating well and I'm changing enough diapers".
Then we move onto toddlerhood, aka potty training. Oh boy, our first foray into potty training was a doozy. The second time was much easier, Jillian was fully potty trained shortly after turning 2 years old (through absolutely no effort on our part, it was all her doing). And of course the potty trained preschooler leads into one of my least favourite stages of parenthood, the visit-every-public-washroom stage *shudder*. Thankfully I'm mostly out of that stage, although Leah does enjoy keeping me on my toes when we are out at times and remind me I am at the mercy of a 5 year old sized bladder.
There was the one (and only) time I decided it would be fun for us to drive Jeff to the airport and drop him off before going on a business trip. With a 7 year old, 3.5 year old and newborn. Yes, I'm serious, I really did think this was a good idea. My main memory of that trip was keeping the kids from running off in the airport, then finally getting everyone back to the van, getting the newborn secured into the infant seat and hearing those 5 little words "I have to go pee". Fantastic. A bathroom trip, and 30 minutes later, I finally got everyone back to the van. Never again did Jeff get a family drop off at the airport.
The kids get older and they are self-suffient in the bathroom...you would think. Why is it I can tell my kids the same thing over and over and over again but for some reason the sequence of "flush and wash hands" is too difficult to remember? Even better is the fighting over our mainfloor powder room. It is the smallest bathroom but by far the most popular out of the four we have in our home. It's amazing the arguing I hear from a desperate child who tells me they MUST get into that bathroom right now, they can't hold it, their brother/sister really must come out this instant because they need the bathroom NOW. They'll spent a good 2-3 minutes explaining to me why it has to be this bathroom and they simply cannot make it long enough to use the one a few seconds away at the top of the stairs (the bathroom which is literally in my sight while having this insane discussion). And of course the phrase "wash your hands for dinner" usually instigates a stampede and someone being slighted or having the door slammed in their face with them shouting "not fair! I was first!". They really do love each other but apparently all's fair in love, war and the mainfloor powder room.
I've saved my favourite part about bathrooms and parenthood for last. The always lovely "MOOOOOM!" that I hear when I dare go to the bathroom. And it's always super urgent stuff that couldn't possibly wait a minute or two...things like "can I have another bookmark to paint?", "my pinky finger hurts", "can I have a snack?", "how many days is it until Christmas?" (I'm not making any of these up). For some reason Jeff doesn't seem to be fair game to the kids under the same circumstances. He has often asked why I lock/barricade myself into our bedroom to use the ensuite in the evenings when he's at home. I explain it's because otherwise they feel welcome to just come on in!
Maybe one day I'll be sad about being all alone in the bathroom with no-one yelling for help finding their pink sock. Just kidding! This is one (and possibly the only) stage of babyhood/childhood I'll be happy to leave behind.
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