All I Want for Christmas is to Poop in Peace

Is that too much to ask? When I sat down with my in-laws to discuss Secret Santa presents, and we all went around the table saying what we wanted, I secretly yearned to whisper this phrase: Just let me take a dump, please, for the Love of God, without a single interruption.

Having a toddler means never having privacy in the bathroom, yes, we know this. But my toddler not only has a particular affinity for coming in to observe the ongoings, but also peppering me with questions about what I’m doing (taking a shit), why it’s taking so long (because it’s shy), can I turn off the light (no, I need it), I want to see your poopy (no, just…leave it alone, Lucas), GOOD JOB, MAMA! (resigned sigh…thanks, buddy).

If that weren’t enough, lately he’s decided that when Mommy goes pee or poop, he’s going to come in the bathroom and go, too! So I find myself scurrying to cut things off mid-stream, scrambling to de-pants my son while my own pants are around my ankles, and tossing him onto the toilet, only for him to giggle as he passes gas.

Here's JohnnySometimes I do race to the bathroom to try and lock myself in, but he catches on and follows me with the speed of a cheetah. If I make it in before him, I struggle against his sudden Hulk-like strength to force the door closed and locked. He’ll then proceed to bang on the door like a vicious axe murderer until I finish my business. I’m just waiting for the day for him to chop through all “Heeeeeere’s Johnny!”

Lucas, like all toddlers, has always wandered into the bathroom to keep me company, but lately it seems he’s hell-bent on not just hanging out but actually terrorizing me—so much so that the bathroom has turned from a sanctuary into a traumatic war zone. Last weekend I told Alex that I really needed some peace and quiet, so I was going to lock the master bedroom door AND the bathroom door so that I could take a bath alone. What do you think happened?

My husband PICKED THE LOCKS to come in and tell me that he needed to get Lucas ready.

He picked the locks.

He…PICKED….the locks.

Could he have waited an extra 10 minutes before getting Lucas ready? Yes, yes I believe he could have. I don’t think he realized how very precious that alone time was for me, otherwise he wouldn’t have done it. But in walked my son, who of course pointed out my private parts, rightfully shaming me for being naked in the tub.

Someday very soon Lucas will have zero desire to walk in on his mom doing her business. And that’s one of those baby things that, trust me, I will NEVER miss.

green of skin, black of heart

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