Bathroom

"If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it.
We could start with the acceptable places: the bathroom... Where you can stall and read the paper," -Tanya Davis, How To Be Alone

I started simple. The loo is supposed to be a place where you can always be alone if you want to, right?

Wrong.

When you have children, that simple daily hygienic activity becomes invaded and you lose your sense of privacy. Brushing your teeth, washing, or the most obvious... all becomes a precious commodity (I think I've said this before in another blog somewhere), where bargaining eventually becomes begging and usually gives way to forfeiture after pleading for a moments pause just so you can be alone with your pants around your ankles.

However: the tot was not home. I seized the moment, and instead of dishes, laundry, or the much needed nap, I camped out in the bathroom.

Both bathroom's actually, ha.

I chose the more dancy of my three playlists, cranked it up, and what followed felt like a blast from the past. Apparently, there's a ton to do in a bathroom, and I did all of it. From pissing, to showering, flossing, plucking my eyebrows, and lots more. Somehow I ended up half naked, with my hair down and done with make-up on, dancing in front of the mirror, using my brush as a mic, singing at the top of my lungs with no shame, whatsoever.

I was so enthralled in my awesomeness that I didn't realize exactly what was going on til I stepped on my cat under my feet. I snapped back to reality and was standing there, staring at myself in the mirror. Examining the situation, I just burst into laughter.

It felt amazing.
Like I had just burst through the double doors of some sort of figurative imprisonment and with arms raised, started singing "Don't Rain On My Parade," or some other freedom rich, inspirational Broadway chorus.

I wanted a bath after all that, so I headed to the garden tub in the master. I put just enough bubble bath in to get that milky froth on the top of the water. I've never done that before, and still don't know how I did; it felt like silk. I let it coat my skin as I sat back in the screaming hot water, watching my pale skin go from white to bright pink with the heat, and then white again with the coating of the smooth lather of the bubbly stuff.

I read a book.
An entire book.
In the tub (and laughed the entire time).
I've never done that before either.

I shaved my legs, which unfortunately, I haven't been keeping up with lately, what with having no one to impress and all. That made the milky water feel like heaven on my legs.

I did a salt scrub treatment on my hands and feet. Ahhhmazing.

I got out of the tub and made it the whole 10 feet to my bed before collapsing with a heavy relaxation. I laid there and air dried (which I'll advocate, feels so fresh), daydreaming.

I decided that the bathroom is my new favorite place in the house.

If I had to guess, I'd say I'm off to a good start with this alone stuff :) We'll see though.
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PS- the book I read: "Sh*t My Dad Says" by Justin Halpern;

It's not for the prude, but I highly recommend it.