Privacy

Privacy... a foggy memory. It slipped away with my youth.
I never, as a young woman, pictured myself with a boy child running through my house like his head was on fire, yet here I am. A gorgeous six year old boy is living and growing up in my care.
He has long reached the age of it being inappropriate to bathe with his baby sister, and in turn to be in mommy's room when she is getting dressed, or showering. He gets it. He knows already that boys and girls are different, and boys do not have any business seeing girls naked.
Still, while I was in my room this morning, putting on my brasserie... He comes walking in, finishing the sentence he started in the hallway. He looked up to see me trying to cover my tits with one hand, and wave him out of the room with the o
ther. Does he apologize and bow out gracefully? No, of course not. He covers his mouth to keep the explosion of laughter in as he walks out-nay- backs out of the room. At this juncture, he is giggling his ass off with one of his nubby fingers pointing at me. As he disappears down the hallway, I hear him tell Rachel- "I saw mommy's boobs! Ahahahhahha"
It doesn't end there. My daughter- like my cat- has a thing about being in the same room with me, even if that happens to be when I am on the can doing my thing.
Now I had no delusions of parenthood starting out. I expected to be followed to the bathroom as a part of motherhood. I never thought it would be going on for this long, but I anticipated it. Though an irritant most days- it is one I mostly ignore and accept as something she will grow out of. What I can't get the gist of is her standing there, holding her nose and telling me I stink. "Well, then get out;" She doesn't.
The worst days are the ones when I am trying to... use my feminine hygiene products and she insists on standing there playing her favorite game of "20 questions".
Imagine for a moment trying to explain what that is, why it is, where did you put it, why are you bleeding, why do you have to throw that part away, etc, etc while trying to give answers a 4 year old will understand, and get the tampon put in the right place without dropping it into the water below. I have tried the answers of "Never mind", and "I'll tell you some day", but it usually invariable end ups as "Rachel- GET OUT AND LET ME DO MY THING". AT which time she gets upset, runs down the hall, and accuses me of hating her.
No, dear child. I do not hate you... One day, my grandchild will do the same to you.