This morning I sent the following text message to Jeff:
"Remind me to rant tonight about how we need a new showering routine for me."
It was followed by several fire breathing emoticons.
Unless I leap out of bed at 6:00 in the morning when Jude wakes up and comes to snuggle, and before Grahamykins is awake, it rarely ends up happening until after everyone's eaten brek, and Jeff is out the door on his way to his office. Jude would probably be content to stay downstairs and watch tv while I cleansed, but I don't trust a) him alone with Graham, because he tends to lay down quite an axe for minor infractions like toy stealing, and b) Graham likes to climb onto the couch and lean over the arm to try to play with the back yard light switch, which resulted in a goose egg a few weeks ago.
So they all have to come upstairs with me. I shut the bedroom door, shut the closet door, shut the door to the toilet room so G won't try to splash (which he adores for some reason -- Jude never did so this is new to me), and I have child locks on the cabinets with cleaning supplies. I set up Jude with the iPad and Graham with some toys.
This is what happened this morning while I took a 5 minute shower (and essentially what happens every single time they come with me):
I hop in the shower.
I can hear Graham yelling for joy and banging on the sliding closet doors (which he has knocked off its rollers plenty of times).
Jude yells, "No yelling, Graham!!!" (eye roll)
Graham comes into the bathroom, turns on the bath water.
Jude follows 30 seconds behind, starts to squish a squealing Graham away from the faucet because he knows I don't want to waste water. I say, "It's ok, Jude, I'd rather have the water on than you hurting him!"
After a few more nudges, Jude stops squishing (I get the sneaking suspicion it has nothing to do with my scolding, he is just bored of it and knows he'll have ample opportunities later for additional squishing/body slamming).
I realize I left my face wash at the sink and dart out of the shower to grab it. Water is spilt on the floor.
Graham starts wiping the water all around.
Jude pretends he's a dog and starts crawl-hopping all around, growl/biting at and chasing G who thinks it's a lovely game.
As they travel back toward the bedroom they come across a snag in the carpet and start to pull on it.
"STOP!!!!" They only stop when they hear me turn the water off.
As soon as I step out of the shower they think it's about time I pick them up, so before I can even reach for my moisturizer I have 4 little hands tugging on my towel, my tangled hair is dripping all over them and the floor, I'm freezing, AND I keep thinking, "JUDE IS TOO OLD TO BE IN HERE!!!" HMPHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As I go to pick out clothes they continue to find ways to destroy our room. The internet wiring in the closet looks fun. My tub of maternity clothes has a broken lid that is fun to open. They found a cufflink on the floor. Oh -- look at that! The sock drawer!!
And all the while I'm fuming and thinking, "I'M JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE!"
Now I have to go rant to Jeff about this.