The Bathroom Woosah

In the dictionary, Woosah is defined as the pronunciation of meditative breaths used to reduce anxiety with the intention of eliminating anger or frustration.

While laying in bed with a bout of insomnia, I came up with this new concept that I am going to incorporate into my daily life. This sounds crazy, yes, especially to me at 1:30 in the morning, but really, what do I have to lose? The idea of The Bathroom Woosah, or TBW as it will now be known, is to help me calm down and get back to the fun-loving, happy person I have always been (that is, up until two adorable ladies entered my world and turned it upside-down).  Anyone can do this, too, not just mothers who are ready to poke everyone’s (including her own) eyes out. Tough day at the office? Fight with your BFF? Pets just won’t stop ripping apart the house? Before you quit the job, murder your friend, or throw Fido in the street, give this a whirl.

I am thinking that this practice will do the one main thing that I need, which the definition describes, and that is CALM ME THE HELL DOWN. I find my blood boiling way more time than I’d like to admit during a normal day (if you can even define any of my days as “normal”). There’s the “toddler’s diarrhea”, the 3 year old who colored her face blue with a marker, the crying, the not-napping, the constant “I need/I want/I can’t/I have to” that go on day in and day out. Sometimes, they make me feel like a glorified maid and, other times, I think my brain will just eventually atrophy one of these days and my head will implode. More often than not, I find myself exploding at the stupidest, most inane incidences to ever happen to a mother; times where a lot of mothers could laugh and just give a wink and a nod to the TV cameras so we will all just laugh along with her.

This is not Lifetime. I do not get paid even a TV-actor’s wage. This is real life, and I yell.

I get steamed. I get upset. I stomp around and mutter things under my breath and let out big long “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”s and I just can’t believe my life! Yes, I act like a 3 year old.

More importantly, I let myself go there, to that angry, ugly, snappy place. I don’t have time to sit back and think about why I shouldn’t lecture for the 100^th time WE DON’T PUT OUR MILK CUP NEAR THE EDGE OF THE TABLE. Or why we have to put our shoes on RIGHTTHISVERYMOMENT. I don’t have time because I am a reactionary person. All humans are reactionary, sure, but some of us don’t take even a millisecond to check ourselves before we wreck ourselves. We yell now, think later. I always said to myself that I wouldn’t be that sort of parent, that I would appreciate the children that I was lucky enough and blessed enough to have, and that I would always be patient.

Boy, was that a joke.

What’s not a joke, though, is the fact that even though I am failing miserably at recognizing all of those things, they need to be recognized regardless. They have to be. I will miss out on the most important thing I will ever do with my life if I don’t stop and take the time to see that, you know what, it just might not be the end of the world. I will not, however, put unrealistic and unattainable goals on myself, i.e. weighing what I did in high school, meeting Oprah, or always being cool, calm and collected 24/7. If I do that, I will undoubtedly fail. Instead, I’d like to create a way that works for me to get myself back to reality, back in the moment, and back to a place where I don’t necessarily feel like a raging lunatic. I want to find a new normal for myself that I am comfortable with, happy with. This is where the aforementioned Bathroom Woosah comes in to play…

So here’s my brilliant, yet simple, plan for myself. I actually googled this made-up term to see if anyone else had stayed up in the middle of the night just to get this crazy idea down on paper like me.

No one did.

That leaves me to do the work and figure this out and, you know what, I’d be happy to oblige. TBW is easy: when you need a moment before (or, god-forbid, even right after) a total meltdown of sorts, you go to the bathroom and take the time you need to regroup.  Why the bathroom, you may ask? It’s usually pretty small, with few distractions. I know that if I were to try and go to my bedroom for this, I’d end up face down on my bed snoozing, or attempting to put the laundry away that has been in a basket for 3 days. That is NOT the point of TBW. Forget the playroom or any common areas, too messy/occupied with grimy kids and their toys. The kitchen is just asking for trouble, what with all the chores that are always screaming at us every time we walk into our kitchens. The lovely porch that we have has always been a favorite place of mine to go, shutting the front door behind me, to sit down and think. (That is until recently, when the girls got savvy enough and tall enough to stare at me out one of the 4 windows that looks onto the porch from our house. Their sadness is guilt-inducing and often burns a hole into the back of my skull.) No, this has to be a place with limited interruptions, not too many distractions, and ample space to sit and reflect—on the day, the moment, whatever you need at that time--to keep you from being the screaming banshee you are inclined to be lately. This will also force you to keep the bathroom relatively clean, so as not to waste TBW time straightening up in there.

 Here are some rules to TBW that must always be followed, lest ye fail and are back to square one:

1.       No phones. No tablets, computers, or any other electronic device that you could use to look up ridiculous things like what your first ex from high school had for lunch today. This time is to clear your mind, not fill it with crap/more things to worry about.

2.       You do this ALONE. That means that if you have to wait for your spouse to get home because your hellions might tear the house apart in the 90 seconds it takes you to calm down, then so be it. Wait it out all day if you have to. Just picture that beautiful alone time and, trust me, it will be worth it. If you are a one-bathroom family, try (I said try) to be courteous and ask if anyone must tinkle or poo before you go in there. You cannot say how long this will take, and you don’t want any surprise knocks urging you out before you’re ready. For a 2+ bathroom home, run in there as fast as your legs will take you.  If your kids don’t “allow” you to ever use this room alone, here’s a great time for your spouse to teach them about privacy. NOW GO.

3.       Be sure to tell your spouse that this isn’t a lady-like way of saying you have to poop, nor is it a way to sneak in alone and text/call/message a lover or mistress. You’re not necessarily trying to skirt any chores or responsibilities, or to make anything unfair to them. You are running away so that you can be a nicer person for the next however-many-hours your day will last. 

      

      Now that you have entered the bathroom, alone and unplugged, take this time to simply sit down and collect yourself. If you would rather stand, stand. Lean over the sink like Eminem in 8 mile. Take a quick pee while you loosen up. Slide your back down the wall until you land on your ass with a thud.  Curl up in the cold, empty bathtub if that’s the dramatic route you want to take. No matter what, get comfy.

      The second thing you must do is count to ten. Don’t do it in the voice of The Count, don’t rush through like you are counting fingers and toes for the 1000^th time this week. Close our eyes, listen to the breath, take it from deep down in your soul, and breeeeaaaattthhhhhe. Woosah. Afterward, if you feel inclined, brush your teeth, comb your hair, and/or wipe the makeup out from under your eyes. Or don’t. You’re not in there to prep for a runway walk when you reemerge, you are there to be able to reemerge happier.

      

     Once the breathing and maybe-self-care has calmed you slightly, before you step back out to the shitshow, start to say things to yourself that help you let the anger go. Things that would sound BATSHIT CRAZY if you were to say them in public. Things like “remember, they grow up so fast, try to resist the urge to kick them”, or “it’s ok if you went through an entire roll of toilet paper today just on snotty noses”, or “getting dressed every day in real clothes is overrated anyway”. Whatever means something to you, say it. You certainly don’t want to end up cold, angry, wrinkly, and/or gruff. You don’t want your kids or your spouse to have to think real hard about when the last time was that you were happy. I don’t want my husband to dread walking in the door to crying kids and a wife who yells “I’M DONE! YOU TAKE THEM! MY SHIFT IS OVER!” What I do want is for him to walk in and me give the ‘TBW look’ (which I will be working on as early as tomorrow—I’m thinking non-threatening meets all-business) and for him to let me Woosah and be done with it. I want to come out smiling, ready to talk about our crazy day at home, just 3 nearly-unemployed ladies making our way through the world. I don’t want him to think I’m running from dinner or another poopy diaper or from yet another tantrum. I want him to see this as me recharging so that I can go on—as a sane-sounding, sane-looking, sane-feeling individual—for the rest of the evening. I know I won’t have a problem convincing him that this is something I need--for 10 seconds, 2 minutes, 12 minutes, whatever. It is better than the alternative (Kevin, see aforementioned snarky wife blowup described above).

     

      If you need 1 TBW a day, good for you. That’s wonderful. You’re probably almost there, to absolute nirvana. If you need 15, well, good for you, you are working very hard on absolute nirvana. Anytime that you think you would benefit from TBW, do it*. (*disclaimer: probably not the best time to take a time out when someone is bleeding, the stove is boiling over, and/or the toddler is running toward the open front door. Be sure everyone is safe and sound before exiting the chaos of your life). Start with TBW and I think you will feel a lot better and more empowered to do even more tasks that make you happy! It can help you tackle any problem that may come your way! You will enjoy your babies even when you think you can’t. Kiss your spouse instead of throwing ‘you don’t even understand’ glares their way. Get back to who you used to be before your life was altered in such a dramatic way, to a time when you danced and laughed and smiled a lot. To a time when you and your spouse gave each other loving glances and surprise butt-pinches. 

      

      Don’t lose your true self to motherhood and just assume that this is the way it is now. Yes, you will get frustrated and lose your cool. If you are starting to feel like that is your “normal”, though, you probably want to just hunker down and try the crazy idea of TBW. And don’t forget, you can do this in restaurants, Chuck E. Cheese, at your in-laws house, or even in Target! They all have bathrooms! Legally, they have to!

     ~Leah