As a parent, using the bathroom alone is a luxury.
I'm not sure why it's so surprising since you give up your right to privacy when you have kids.
What, you didn't know that was what you were signing when you left the hospital?
And if you're like me, you adapted pretty quickly, with the bathroom door suddenly lock-free and revolving. No quiet respite to catch up on emails or flip through an old catalog.
Hell, I'm lucky if I get a private wipe.
Then your kids get old enough to acknowledge their sense of smell, which miraculously sends them running but not without some sort of embarrassing comment that ends in a chorus of "Ew gross!" by small, ungrateful children who, as I remind them, used to sit in their own crap BY THE WAY.
But during that week, I tend to be a little more discreet than usual, which is easier in a house with four bathrooms than it is in a small condo with one, which was the case this past week on our family ski vacation when my son walked in after I had just done the desperate tampon search and rescue.
Don't tell me you've never done it because you, like me, had the one friend who accidentally put a tampon in with a tampon already in which then got stuck except she didn't know and it started to smell and hurt and then the doctor had to tell her that it was an old tampon that was rotting inside her vagina and now you can never change a tampon without replaying that entire story in your head even though you don't even need a string to get a tampon out anymore.
So that is perfectly fine (or at best, relatively fine, mostly ridiculous) when you can lock a bathroom door, but when your son walks in, well, it's mildly upsetting.
"MOM, YOU'RE BLEEDING FROM YOUR HEINEY!" he screeched.
Maybe "mildly" was putting it a little lightly.
"Vagina" I corrected him, as I bumbled around, then offering to explain it to him after he shut the door, much to my husband's audible disdain, which was actually less complicated and more comfortable than I expected.
He stared at me while I gave him the Emergency Menstruation Talk: Version 5-Year Old Boy with an expression of horror and fascination which is much like how I imagine my face looks when I'm watching a UFC match when someone is getting the shit pounded out of them and you don't want to watch but yet you just can't flip the channel.
I asked him if he had any questions and he shook his head, slowly backing out of the bathroom, watching me as if I might pull a dancing rabbit out of my armpit next.
Then he turned around and yelled "MOMMY LAID AN EGG IN THE TOILET! LIKE A CHICKEN!" which then sent all my kids running in.
Imagine their disappointment when they didn't see an actual egg in the toilet.
And my evil grin when I served them eggs for breakfast.