A darn cute baby garners all sorts of advice for brand new parents. Things you must do – breastfeed! introduce a bottle early! pick them up! let them cry it out! – and things you mustn’t – cosleep! use a pacifier! hold them too much! let them cry! It’s overwhelming and comforting all at once.
And then there are the things no one mentions. The things everyone knows and winks about when the mom-to-be gets teary eyed at the prospect of full diapers or the new mom weeps about no sleep or the one-year-old mom complains about tantrums. Oh, yes, they wink in silent code because it will get so much worse.
The things they don’t talk about, well, you just can’t believe it until you go through it. And one of those things is the bathroom. *shudder!* The bathroom! And I am telling you, once you have a child, the bathroom is never the same. The reasons for this are many and sundry but the most pressing is this:
You are never alone.
I’ve waxed poetic on this before, however the happenings of this evening leave me conflicted. I attempted (and let’s be real, every time I go to the bathroom I attempt to be alone) a solo trip. Then there was a tiny knock followed by a not-so-tiny, “Mama!”
“Mom-mom-mom!” Lucy chirped and then waited, listening.
I’m telling you, I almost cried.
Because she too had found me? Yes, and no. None of the children ever learned my name so early. Dad? Sure! Food? Yes! But Mom? Never. And here she was, my babe, calling me by name.
“How can I help you?” I sang back to her.
“Mmm . . . Daaa-yessth, Ma!”
I have no idea what she meant but it was clear we were in conversation. And it was the cutest darn thing I saw all week. I’m going to enjoy it’s charm until it wears right out and then I’m going to remember to tell every mom I know, new or not.
