I Remember A Thing Called Privacy.
A few years ago my sister asked me what I thought the hardest part of being a mom was. Without hesitation I answered mom guilt. There isn't a day that goes by that I, as a parent of two young children (soon to be THREE!!! young children), don't feel like I fucked up in some monumental way that is going to forever impact and scar my kids. No, I'm not being dramatic. I wish. This is my reality. And probably the reality of many others mothers (and fathers) out there. We want what's best for our kids and some days we lose our shit and scream and yell and feel like total jerkoffs after our meltdowns. I can't tell you how many times I have tried to fall asleep at night only to over analyze all the shitty parenting I did that day.
As time has passed I have learned to give myself a little bit more of a break. Sure I still feel guilty about not being a perfect Pinterest mom, but I also try to be realistic. Most days I am doing the best I can to keep my patience in check and my kids happy. Most days my kids eat healthy enough. Most days they aren't in front of the TV for 8 hours straight. Most days they are well adjusted human beings and just kids being kids. But you know what else they are? They are little shits that test me every single day. They know what buttons to push. They know that after enough begging and whining and crying that they will wear me down, albeit not without a total scream fest from me. So now I don't feel as guilty. Most days.
The thing that kills me lately as a parent is the complete lack of privacy I have. I literally cannot leave the room to take a poop without my youngest appearing seconds later to chat me up whilst I am on the toilet. I ask nicely for a little privacy and reassure her that I will not be living in the bathroom and will join her in a minute, but she doesn't care. As far as she is concerned I am now moving into the bathroom forever so she might as well take up residence on the floor in front of my legs and tell me all about whatever random craziness is going through her brain. But it isn't just my youngest that does this to me. No sooner than I sit down to relieve myself does my 8 year old yell for me and appear in the doorway. Jesus Christ, get out!!! I have been in here for less than 2 fucking minutes! Let me poop without a gd audience!!!
And sex? Ughhhhhhhh. I never thought I would have to be so stealthy just to have a little romance with my husband. Unfortunately for all parties involved, my husband and I have been interrupted during sex a few times and thus we now lock our door and stack as much furniture in front of it as possible to keep the chitlins out. I kid, I kid. But of course we do have to lock the door. Oh, and we have to be super quiet if we have sex when the kids are awake. Which is total bullshit and not nearly as fun but I guess that's the price parents have to pay so as not to scar the children. Lame. So we either act as quiet as mice or have sex when the kids are sleeping. Thanks for that, kiddos.
There's also the eavesdropping. The older kids get the more they absorb what you're saying. They love to hear their parents gossip about that asshole at work that you hate or that friend that pissed you off the other day. They take all your secrets and store them in some crazy compartment in their brains and bring it up at the most inconvenient (and usually embarrassing) time. You can't remember where you put your fucking sneakers but you remember that I called Susan a giant bitch 3 years ago?! Explain to me how that works. So I have to constantly be on the lookout for children creeping around when I'm trying to have private conversations with my husband.
None of this will be getting better anytime soon. In less than two months we will be welcoming another little into our home who will ensure our privacy remains non-existant. Maybe in like 20 years I'll be able to poop without an audience, have sex without inhibitions, and talk shit about whomever I want. I doubt it. By then I'm sure I'll have a grandchild lurking someone just waiting for me to start walking to the bathroom. WHERE ARE YOU GOING, GRANDMA?!! I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT THAT CAN'T POSSIBLY WAIT UNTIL YOU ARE OFF OF THE TOILET!!! Kids, amiright?