Within the last six months we moved. I say moved, but I should probably rephrase that to say, bought a house, tore everything out of it, and started anew. While most of our house is complete (in a relative sense), the bathrooms are not. Well, I should probably say this, we have one true bathroom for the four of us. A lot of the families we know have at least two bathrooms in their house. We will eventually have two full lovely bathrooms. But for now we have one tub for the four of us.
We share a bathroom.
I walk into the bathroom and I see toothpaste on the counter, matchbox cars in the tub, and toilet paper on the floor. Some mornings the toilet remains unflushed. The soap collection in the tub ranges from Elmo to Tea Tree Shampoo. There is a hamper that collects large clothes, medium clothes, and extremely small clothes. There is always something out of place, it always smells wet, and there is rarely a moment when the mirror is clean.
I have grown to love that bathroom.
It is the one place that we all really share. It represents my family and those precious moments before we all hide our eyes from each other in privacy.
It will not remain like this forever, for the plans are in the works for the next bathroom and the children are growing bigger, with my oldest sometimes requesting privacy.
But that messy bathroom represents all that I want to cling to in these early years of my children: the togetherness of family, the haphazard nature of play, and the moments when life sneaks up and surprises you in tiny, unexpected ways.