In the morning it's the first thing on my mind. I consider waking my husband but children take precedence and I rise to quiet the cries of mine. After they are fed and distracted by shiny toys, I take a few minutes to myself and sit down with a warmed mug-- but the coffee just reminds me of my waking thought; it's hot, steamy, and an odd juxtaposition of relaxing and stimulating. Still, the children can't be left alone, even for the few minutes it would take to accomplish my goal. To make matters worse, my husband leaves for work at this point, taking any lingering hopes I may have out the door with his newly shaved face and wonderful smelling body.
I want to throw my arms around him and beg him to stay-- noontime isn't far away and that is when my energy peaks and it doesn't seem like such a chore to spend a few extra minutes just enjoying. But instead I watch the door close and I have to turn my attention to household duties.
As afternoon comes on, I find myself staring at the clock wishing my husband would walk back into the house, surprising me with an early return for the day. My energy is beginning to dwindle; I find myself getting frustrated and a bit resentful of the man who is walking around the world in complete ignorance as to my needs.
When evening arrives I'm too distracted to think of anything other than preparing dinner, eating dinner, feeding dinner to Husband and kids, cleaning up after dinner, watching the kids play with their dad, and putting kids down for the night.
After this is all said and done, I sit on the couch--in a foul mood because now...NOW I don't want to anything but sleep. My frustration is at it height because I still feel the need, I just do not have the oomph to do anything about it.
Time slips away from me. The clock is reading almost midnight. Just as my eyelids are getting too heavy to keep open, I hear Husband's voice.
"Baby." Oh, no, he didn't. I know that tone. I know that inflection. I ignore him.
"Baby...." He shakes my foot for added emphasis. There's no ignoring that one. With my teeth on edge, I answer him.
"Go to bed."
"Baby. You're falling asleep on the couch. Go to bed."
"Don't TELL me what to DO!"
"Honey, I'm not trying to! But look at you! You can barely keep your eyes open!"
"I don't care! I'm a big girl! I can take care of myself! I've been going to bed for YEARS without your say-so!"
Husband's eyes narrow. He looks me up and down. "You haven't had a shower today, have you?"
"NO! NO, I HAVEN'T! THAT'S ALL I'VE WANTED ALL DAY! From the minute I woke up, all I wanted to do was relax in the hot water, but the kids were calling for me! Then YOU got into the shower, then you left, then the kids wouldn't go down for a nap! I JUST WANTED TO GET THIS DAMN STUBBLE OFF OF MY LEGS! I CAN'T SLEEP WITH STUBBLE! And NOW I'm too DAMN TIRED TO STAY AWAKE IN HOT, STEAMY WATER! I'll freaking fall asleep...I will. Really...."
My sweet man just stares at me as I rant about my shower-less day. My voice just kind of trails off as I realize how much I sound like a crazy person. Then I sit and stare back at the guy. He pushes my legs off of the couch. He pulls my arm until I'm standing. He shoves me toward the bathroom door.
"Go take a shower," he says. This time I don't argue with being told what to do. But I'm angry. I walk to the shower and I'm angry. I turn the water on and I'm angry. I step onto the stupid white tiles and I'm angry. The warmness hits my skin and I am in heaven. I breathe a big sigh of relief as I pick up my razor. And you know what the best part is?
I totally, freakin' earned this half-hour of hot mist, steamy water and the odd juxtaposition of relaxation and stimulation.