post by Colleen Stout

According to my little Twitter poll 62% of  you moms do it every single day.

23% of you do it every other day.

Just 16% of you admitted to doing it less than every three days.

I really want to do it every day. I try to do it every day.

I don’t always get to.

I takes a lot of planning to make it happen. Often it’s a 10 minute quickie when the kids are napping.

But when it does happen?

Oh, it feels SO GOOD.

The few minutes of solitude. The quiet rush. The warmth.

Yeah, yeah. It’s not what you’re thinking. In fact this is kinda like a prerequisite for that.

I’m talking about that Holy Grail of motherhood, the Long Hot Shower.

There are different stages of motherhood when the shower is less attainable than others.

Like when you have a newborn.

The baby won’t let you put her down. She won’t stop crying. She only naps in five minutes increments. Or you’re just plain too tired from being up all night that you don’t have the strength to turn the faucet on. And, heck, if you do get 10 minutes of peace, you’re sleeping, not worrying about how greasy your hair is.

If you have a newborn it is a perfectly acceptable practice to wipe yourself down with baby wipes and call it good.

Then there is the menacing toddler stage.

You don’t dare leave him alone while you shower. Unless you want to emerge damp and smelling ever so delicately of cherry blossoms only to find abstract crayon art all over the living room wall.

I haven’t reached this stage yet, but I imagine there is one coming when there isn’t enough time for me to shower and get everyone ready for school and there on time.

The stage I’ve got going on in my house right now is the I’m-afraid-to-leave-the-baby-alone-with-the-four-year-old stage.

Wade, the baby, is pretty easy going. Now that he’s seven months old I could probably plunk him down in the Exersaucer or lay him in his crib with a safe toy while I jump in the shower for a few minutes.

If it were just him.

David, my four year old, is really a good kid. I could probably leave him in front of the TV with a movie on while I bathed.

If it were just him.

David wouldn’t intentionally put Wade in harms way. But he would try to pick Wade up if he cried. Then just let go because Wade was too heavy.

David would try to feed Wade to quiet him down. With a stale bottle that sat on the counter all night.

David would think giving Wade a ride by pulling him all over the house in the Exersaucer was lots of fun.

There are really only three options if I want to take a shower. One, tie David up. But I don’t think that would go over so well with Social Services.

Two, wait until both boys are napping. I take the baby monitor in the bathroom with me, and turn it up as loud as it will go so I can hear in case they wake up and the shenanigans start.

Three, I wait and shower when my husband can supervise the boys. He is usually willing since it means I’ll be clean for that later.

But there are the days when I’m just too busy. Or the boys don’t both nap at the same time. Or my husband is busy with work.

Sometimes it’s after dinner before I can get in the shower. Then I think, “Why bother? I’m tired. And I’m way too tired for that anyway.”

So I put on my comfy PJs, pull the covers up over my messy hair, and fantasize about the good hair day and the smooth legs I’ll have tomorrow. When I get that shower.

Now that’s hot.