Thursday, April 29, 2010

Who Can It Be Now?

Something about the door closing makes the children swarm outside of it like moths to a flame. And the more they want to come in is in direct proportion to how busy I am on the other side and how much I don't want them to come in.

Tonight I was going to take a shower. My children had looked through me all night, barely acknowledging my existence. But, when I shut my bathroom door to take a shower, there was a knock.

"Yes?" I sighed.

"It's me," Amy called.

I flung open the door. The children are well-aware of my frustration of being interrupted while trying to have the tiniest bit of "me" time in the shower and in the bathroom.

"Hi," Amy smiled.

"Hello," I said curtly.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower. Like I said I was going to. Before I came in here. And shut the door."


"Did you need something?" I sighed.

"No," she shrugged. "Okay. Well, 'bye."

"Goodbye. I'll be out in a minute," I said, waving while I closed the door.

I took off my make up and began undressing. Predictably, there was a knocking on my door.

"What?" I hollered.

"Mom?" Amy called through the door.


"When is daddy getting home?"

"I don't know, sweetie. I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," she said. Then after a minute, "Mom?"

"What?" I snapped.

It was dead silent outside my door, but her shadow moved back and forth. I opened the door.

"Amy? What?"

"You're naked," Amy observed.

"Yeah. I'm taking a shower."

"Why does your tummy poke out like that?"

I looked down self-consciously. Then I glared at her.

"Amy, I'm taking a shower. Please give me a few minutes to take a shower. I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," she sang.

I closed the door behind me and turned on the water. I let the warm flow down my back and face. It felt wonderful as I began to let the grime of the day wash away.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"WHAT?" I screamed.

"Momma?" Amy hollered.

"I. AM. IN. THE. SHOWER!" I screamed in my if-you-don't-stop-it-I'm-going-to-yank-a-knot-in-your-tail voice.

"Jeez. Never mind," Amy snorted.

I got done with my shower in about two minutes and got out to dry off.

There was yet another knock on my door.

"Yes?" I sighed, wearily.

"Momma?" Emma asked timidly.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Can I please come in?"

"Give me a minute. I'm naked," I said, pulling on clothes quickly. "Okay. Come in."

"Are you wearing that to bed?" Emma asked, nodding at my bed attire.

"Yes, why?"

"Hey, Mom," Keith said, coming in.

"Mommy?" Amy asked, poking her head around the corner.

"Okay, guys. It is way past time for you all to be getting ready for bed. Please go."

They chatted as they left, and I shut the door once more to go to the restroom. Suddenly I heard a fight break out on the other side of the door.

"Guys!" I hollered.

All three began telling their side of the story through the door.

"Guys! Stop! Go away. Let me pee. I just want to pee.  That's all. Really," I begged.

Finally, it was quiet on the other side. I came out and washed my hands- with the door open. I brushed my teeth- with the door open. And I cleaned the bathroom up a little- with the door open. And with no interruptions.

When I went out to the kids, they were sitting together talking and getting along. I told them goodnight and tucked them in. Then I went to my room- with the door open- and began writing.

Now they are sleeping soundly. But I would bet money that if I closed my door they would somehow know it, wake up and come knock on it.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Say Aaaaaahhhhh

Keith has been one sick puppy.  He has had his tonsils in such a twist, he has missed just at 23 days of school in his last period class.

The doctor finally said, "Let's yank 'em."

So, we went to the surgery center and I watched them roll my baby away on a gurney.  After a bunch of nervous twitches in my seat, some pacing back and forth and storming heaven with prayer, a nurse finally came out to tell me he was in recovery and was doing well.

I went back to see him, and he was groggy, whiny and pitiful.  He made me cry.

We got him home and poured him into his bed.  He slept for several days in a row, waking up only when I shoved a spoon of medicine in his mouth.

Around the clock, I woke him every three hours to make sure we stayed ahead of the pain.  And it worked.  The day after surgery, the child asked for and ate a Wendy's hamburger.  Hubby and I felt awful!  We concluded that he had felt so utterly miserable prior to the surgery, that this was actually preferable for him.

Three days after the surgery, we ran out of the fantabulous narcotics the doctor had prescribed.  While Keith was really feeling better, he had really been leaning on his meds as a crutch.  Without the security of the meds, he spiraled.

Suddenly, he was waaaayyyyy whiny, his throat was killing him, he was going to "die".  By the time Easter rolled around, I was ready to kill him.

He is now to the point where he is happily bopping around... until you ask him how he's feeling.  Then he remembers he is supposed to be sick, and he crumples into a pitiful little ball of "oooooowwwww...."

If we make it through this, I will be handsomely rewarded:  Hubby goes in for surgery to repair a severely deviated septum Thursday...

The fun just never stops...