As any mother knows, privacy is just not happening with kids. I won’t go into details but let’s just say th large purple top to an under the bed storage box accompanied me to the bathroom yesterday. I have accepted this lack of priacy and space to myself. I am not a girl that really needed a whole lot of privacy anyway. Living in a sorority house and growing up with one bathroom for my sister and mom (Daddy had his own) took care of that.
All I ask for is one drawer. Just one – my makeup/hair/whatever-I-want-drawer in the bathroom. Even with all the entertaining Zach does in our bathroom (and there is a lot) I have NEVER let him in that drawer. It is my stuff. That baby is everywhere else! My closet – OK, whatever come on in and try on my undies and bracelets. The kitchen – sure, let me get you that stool so you can get your dirty hands in our dinner. And we don’t need to mention the bathroom again.
So flash forward to me returning home from welcoming my baby niece into the world and what do I see? A headband that I do not remember leaving on the bedroom floor, my face wipes moved to a higher cabinet and my hairbrushes in the grip of a crazed munchkin.
It is safe to say that Alex got a “talking to” that rivaled the our-baby-needs-to-be-fed discussion. I am not messing around about that drawer.