Thursday, September 30, 2010

I could put out an eye with these

I have been feeling a little boxed in lately. There is not one room in the house where I am truly alone other than the bathroom, and even that gets dicey depending on which dog is on my heels.

No, I am not referring to my husband.

It gets a little frustrating to walk into your bedroom, ready to: a) talk about my day; b) say something dirty to see if he is truly listening; or c) just change my clothes without stepping around bodies, or actually paying attention to my husband's frantic eye contact/head motion to not finish my thought out loud or flash him because there is someone right on my heels directly behind me that I didn't notice in my eagerness to *ahem* share.

If I get a drink, someone wants one too; if I take out the ice cream, everyone else wants some too; if I head for the computer, someone else is already on get the picture. It's life in a big family in a small house, I'm the Mom, I know, I know, I signed up for this gig and I'm stuck with it for the duration. I know.

But I am allowed to let it get to me once in a while.

The thing that made me snap happened one evening happened after I'd come home from work to find my husband had been called in to work. I'd walked into my bedroom, and, after having closed the door behind me (but not completely shut or locked it), I changed the channel and went into the bathroom to change my clothes. I took my shirt off but realized I needed the sleeping bra. Ridiculous to some, it really isn't much, just like a tshirt, really, but I just can't imagine being um, free, with all these kids around, all wanting a hug at some point of the night..nope, can't do it. I had my pants on, and my bra on (nothing scandalous, a beige plunge somewhat-false-advertising but who cares, it does make for a nice rack) when I opened the bathroom door and was half a step out when I see Nolan sitting on the edge of the bed, not five feet away, about to look over and start talking to me. Of course he'd changed the channel, too.

I don't think I have moved that fast in my entire life, and the force of the door closing was lost in the level of my "GET OUT!"

He was gone when I stepped out three seconds later.

I got changed and as I was walking down the hall to find him, we bumped into each other.

"Look, Boy," I said, remarkably calmly, "You will get an eyeful of something that will scar you for life if you do not knock on the door or at least, at least, knock on the bathroom door and say 'Hey, Mom, I'm out here' before you plant yourself in my room. THE DOOR IS CLOSED. FOR. A. REASON."

When my husband made it home, I went on a rant. "I want my own room. I want my own computer that no one else ever ever touches. I want my own t.v. ....." I trailed off when the solution became clear to me.

"I want my own apartment. Hey! That's exactly what we need. We could leave for a couple of hours, here and there, and just hang out. I could actually sex you up whenever I want and not worry that someone is just around the corner. We could talk, uninterruptedly making it through a conversation without losing our train of thought because we stopped to sign something or deal with ;what's for dinner?'!" We wouldn't abandon anyone, we would just have a place to go that is just ours. For like a grown up timeout."

Of course my husband just smiled, patted me on top of the head....and changed the channel.

1 comment:

Remo said...

No. You cannot have a key to my place. I don't need the two of you romping in Remoland while I'm out wandering the state.

I have an image to protect.