March of the Penguins

The word of the day is "solitude." Let me use it in a sentence for you: "This mommy had a very long day, so she locked herself in the bathroom for some solitude and a hot bath."

The only problem is the lock on that particular door doesn't work well. I'm dreaming of the day my hubby will have our house finished...complete with perfectly functioning bathroom door locks.

Doug was supposed to be watching the kids. He thought they were quietly entertaining themselves--you moms out there would know silence is the first clue that something is up. But to dads, silence = don't ask / don't tell.

My two year old was the first to break into my escape: "Mommy? What doin? Mommy?"

I tried silence--maybe he'd think if I didn't answer then I wasn't really in there. But no. When mommy doesn't respond beyond a locked door, that must mean she's drowning or otherwise needs help. So, he started furiously twisting at the knob until the door popped opened.

"Hi mommy. What doin?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You takin' a bath? You dirty, mommy?"

And so it went, one rapid fire question after another. I could have been wearing a ballgown or a tutu--he was totally oblivious to the naked factor. It hasn't sunk in to his two-year-old brain yet that nakedness is not something to be shared...so he strips down, ready to join in the tub filled with lots of splashing water!

"No! You are not coming in here! The water is too hot!"

By this time, both twins crawl single file through the revolving door that is my bathroom and pull up on the side of the tub. Both look at me, grin, and giggle. This is funny--mommy IN the tub and us OUT of the tub.

And then all three children decided I wasn't having enough fun. One by one, a chorus line of six tuxedo penguins in snazzy bow ties, top hats, and inner tubes jumped into my pond. But since the tub is pretty small, they looked more like dancing bumper cars than a bunch of Fred Astaire penguins dancing with their Ginger Rogers. All that was missing was a Frank Sinatra song playing "Fly Me to the Moon."

But the fun ended when Amelia turned over my cup, spilling ice on her and frigid water all over the floor. Naked me leaps into action, scooping up ice and comforting a screaming Amelia who has never encountered cold water before. In that instant, Wyatt used the distraction to jump in the tub.

My moment had passed.

I love my children. I wouldn't give them away even on their worst days. But they do make me understand Paul's admonition that it's better to stay single and not marry so you can be wholly devoted to Christ. I need solitude to meet with God...and solitude is something my crew just doesn't want to give me except for in the wee hours of the morning and evening when I'm too exhausted to think straight.