When Space is Required

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Step away from my oasis

Is it too extreme to wish for my own personal bubble suit?  If it could be one loaded with wi-fi and re-run episodes of Revenge, all the better.  When the heck does the new season start, BTW?  The thing is, I just want a second ALONE.  Without someone touching me.

My best friend tried to tell me about this need for space a while ago. “Somedays I just feel like I can’t stand to be touched by anyone any more,”  she said.  I nodded my head knowingly, thinking I understood.  Yeah, with my 1 yr. old son and nosy chocolate lab, I longed for private space too.  But it took a bit (as in a few years) before I fully got what she was saying.  I don’t know if it was my son getting older, the addition of my daughter to the mix, or my patience just getting thinner, but I soon reached a point where I could NO LONGER STAND TO BE TOUCHED.  At all.  As you can imagine, this was excellent news for my sex life, or just intimate relationship with my husband in general.  Now that I am really paying attention, I often read about/hear someone saying they are “all touched out”.  Now, I get it.

Don’t get me wrong; I love my family.  But I also love peeing alone.  The title itself was at least half the reason I was so honored to be included in the “I Just Want to Pee Alone” anthology.  Without exaggeration, I frequently pee with the company of three other persons and a dog in our teeny powder room.  I have no idea why my husband feels the need to hop in??

So recently, when the light burned out in our windowless downstairs bathroom, it became very, very dark in there.  The rest of my family took it in stride and just started toileting with the door ajar.  But I said screw it, darkness be darned!  This Momma was NOT giving up her daily solitary confined crap.  Oh no, bring on the darkness.  I was locking the door and would just feel my way through the pitch blackness to the toilet paper roll and hand soap.

You see, pooping is the only time I commit to being along all day.  Let’s be honest, it’s the sole reason I am psycho about my fiber intake.  If I get off schedule, constipation is the the least of my worries.  Without a daily crap, I truly have  no sense of self left in this world.  I am in a very dependent relationship with my Fiber One cereal, and I am not ashamed to admit it (*still awaiting endorsement deal*)

In short, there will come a day when my kids won’t want to come near me, but for today, EVERYONE wants to be near me.  And all I want to do is crap.  Alone.  Light or no light–details don’t matter when you hit this level of desperation.

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Meredith

Meredith blogs at The Mom of the Year, where she dedicatedly earns her title one epic parenting fail at a time, offering quick, relatable laughs for fellow parents and all their empathizers. She has been part of several best-selling anthologies, featured on prominent sites such as Huffington Post, In the Powder Room and BlogHer, and loves her role as the Executive VP/Operations Manager of The BlogU Conference. When she's not breaking up fights over Legos and juice boxes, she remains fully committed to sharing a less serious look at the world of parenting.

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