"Where is she?"

"I don't know, is she in the office?"

They're coming for me. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Closer and closer they come.

"I don't see her."

"Let's check in here."

Thump thump. Bump. They're almost here. They're right outside the door. There's a hand on the doorknob.

And this is when I start shrieking out sentences that once upon a time I never would have imagined I'd find myself saying.

Things like: "No, I can't give you a hug while I'm peeing."

Or: "No, you can't come in just to watch."

And, most frequently. "You leave Mama alone while she's going potty!"

I blame myself. Pre-kids, I never thought that my bathroom time would become a public event, and yet somehow it just happened once I became a mom. You know, when you're a new mother and you have this beautiful newborn that you're both attached to and a little bit intimidated by, you feel wrong about leaving her alone at any time. And do you really need to shut and lock the door for privacy from a 1-month-old?

And then they grow, and suddenly they're regarding what you do in there with interest, and you're thinking this is actually a good thing, because you want them to start to utilizing the glory that is indoor plumbing themselves. So you continue to leave the door open while you do your business. For the educational value.

Once you have a second child, you continue with your policy of bringing the baby with you to the bathroom, only this time it's because you're nervous about leaving the infant alone with the 2-year-old--even in such seemingly safe locations as the crib or the baby seat--because you're afraid of what your inventive toddler could do to the baby even in the mere 30 seconds that is your daily allocation of time for peeing.

And before you know, mommy's bathroom time is a family affair.

But I'm fighting back. Lately, I've been starting to (you won't believe this) shut the door while I pee. It's an amazing concept, isn't it? Bathroom privacy?

But my girls are mortally offended by this new leave-mama-alone-in-the-bathroom policy. It's just unbelievable to them that there could be a time and place, a time and place within their own house, where they can't have access to me 24/7. They stand outside the door, asking WHEN I'm going to be done, when, when, when?

But I ignore their angst and continue to potty alone. Now I'm even starting to go in there on purpose sometimes. With the door shut, the fan on, a candle burning, I can hardly see or hear them at all. I've got a stack of magazines, scented lotions for my skin, pretty colors with which to paint my nails if I so desire. I can enjoy the stillness and pretend it's going to last.