Private Time

When my kids were small babies there were two things I quickly learned would no longer be a part of my everyday life: a good night’s sleep and private bathroom time. I said goodbye to bubble baths, taking time to style my hair, makeup requiring much more than a slash of lipstick across of my lips and long, hot showers.

Don’t get me wrong, the trade-off was well worth it. And, as anyone who knows me can verify, I was the type of mom who needed to keep my eyeballs on my children at all times for fear of some disaster that would surely occur because I was taking an extra few minutes in the bathroom with a deep conditioner on my hair. No way was I going to explain to the police that it was because I was more concerned with my split ends than the safety of my babies that I left them in their cribs knowing full well they would climb out, unlock the front door and wander down the street. Not me. I was the queen of worry as a new mom. I held the record for shortest time needed in the bathroom.

My daughter is now a teen and my son is a pre-teen. I’m embarrassed to admit this but I just recently realized I was still holding the family record for shortest shower time. I noticed when my husband or my kids headed into the shower, they’d have a look of such anticipation and joy on their faces. That’s because they knew it would be a time of letting the hot water relax their muscles, singing along to an endless line-up of songs as the radio blasted away, and time away from having to do any chores on Mom’s to-do list. The longer, the better.

This past week in my women’s bible study group, we were all given the assignment to do something nurturing for ourselves. One of the things on the list is a bubble bath. I bought the bubbles, I found a candle in the cabinet that was probably last used in 1999 and filled the tub.

Just as I was about to step into my luxurious bubbles, I jerked my foot back and stared at the deepness of my tub. I hadn’t been in that tub in years because of my bad hip. I realized that attempting to get out of the tub would probably require the assistance of my husband. Having to be hoisted out of a tub isn’t how I envisioned my peaceful private time to end.

I turned on my music, lit the candle, sat on the side of the tub, drained half of the water and then stuck my feet in. My bubble bath turned into a bubble foot soak.

Tomorrow my goal is a long shower. I bought a 10-minute leave-in hair conditioner. Wish me luck.

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