Today marks a full ten days we have lived in our newest home. It doesn't really feel like home to me yet, but it is mostly unpacked and we are living here full time. I'm assuming I probably felt like this at most other places I've lived when I moved in. It just takes time, I guess. I think part of my problem is that I keep second-guessing whether or not this place was the right place and if the timing was right. I don't know why I torture myself like this, but I do. It's that over analytical mind that I have yet to learn to control. As Shark Bait said today, "It's done, so it doesn't really matter. We did what we needed to do." I just keep thinking about it. I need to stop. I need to embrace it is what it is and go from there. I just wonder how long it will be before I stop thinking I hear the horses in the barn and how long it will be before I stop almost getting up to go out and feed them. Clearly, ten days is not enough time for that to stop.
Something that happened today, however, may help me through this transition. Today, Shark Bait and I returned home after running errands. We both had to go to the bathroom. Now, normally, when we lived at the cabin, when this situation arose, we immediately went into negotiations. You know, like, "Ok, so do you just have to pee or are you going to camp?" "I'm going to be a while, you go first." Or, if we were both in a jam of sorts, we'd say, "Ok, do you just have to camp or do you actually have a peeker? Like, how close to shitting your pants are you?" "I can probably hold it, but hurry up." This was our life. There were no secrets. When you essentially have one big room and then a bathroom contained in it's own room in the corner, you really don't have a lot of mystery about what's going on. At our prior home, and the one before that, and the one before that, we also just had one bathroom. We were fortunate for a long time that we had different get ready for work schedules, so we could kind of avoid some overlap.
At any rate, today was different. Today we were able to go to different ends of the house in our own space. Our own bathrooms. I mean, I didn't know how long Shark Bait was going to be, I didn't ask. I didn't need to know. It was amazing. I couldn't hear him doing anything. He couldn't hear me. I didn't rush. I may have lingered an extra 30 seconds and I took my time washing my hands and assessing what was going on with my hair in the mirror. I mean, my pants were zipped and buttoned and I didn't look disshelved like I was recently a victim of a crime in a hurry leaving the scene when I walked out of the bathroom. Now, this is a work in progress situation, because I did leave the door open. I mean, when you don't have any boundaries, why shut the door? In a pee situation, there isn't really any need to shut the door. If your taking the Browns to the Superbowl, yeah, shut the door.
This brings up a valid question. Because all boundaries are down, can boundaries be re-established? Should they be? I don't know. Out of habit, we are still sharing the bathroom in the morning. Like, I'm in the shower and there is Shark Bait, sitting on the toilet. Is that going to stop? Is the habit so ingrained that it cannot be unlearned? Is there any reason to unlearn it? I mean, we are okay with it. He poops. I poop. We know each other poops. I mean, we don't rejoice in the experience and purposely engage in the process if not required, but you know, we are used to it.
I have seen this debate unfold on Facebook and other places and it seems there is a definite opinion to be had on this. "You'll ruin the romance in your relationship!" Well, first of all, Shark Bait isn't super romantic anyway. He's mushy, but I wouldn't say romantic. For example, the day we got the keys to this new house, Shark Bait was starting to bring things over and I was at work. The first thing he brought was a pony refrigerator magnet and a stuffed pony. He took a picture of them in the new house and texted it to me. That's pretty sweet. That's the stuff Shark Bait does. We don't do candles, wine and music and any of that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. So, I would say, we haven't ruined the romance. I mean, do we joke about poop far more that is probably necessary? Sure. When you live in place where there are no secrets, there are times when you have to say, "So, you're gonna want to stay out of there for a while..." Or, all the sudden you get a whiff of something and you are like, "Oh Em Gee...what the hell happened in there? Did something DIE???" And, I'm not going to lie, the words, "I think I just pooped something the size of a baby's arm...I think I need to drink more water..." have been said in our home. Shit happens.
Some people are like, "As far as my spouse knows, I don't poop and they don't poop." Like, there is water running or excuses or lengths people go to so that they can avoid their partner knowing that they are pooping. Maybe it is just a personality thing, I don't know. Maybe I am just an over-sharer that managed to hook up to someone that could care less. We were the perfect storm and now we are one perfect storm of pooping perfection. Like, I don't have to pretend that I had a make-up crisis and that's what took so long, or that I got something in my eye. I was pooping. Period. I might even have done things in there that created a disturbance in the force. I don't know. I'm just saying, I left the fan on and yes, I sprayed. None of this is lady-like. None of this is delicate. I think I've been broken from this one bathroom situation that has gone on for far too long. It didn't help that I used to have IBS when Shark Bait and I first met, so pooping pretty much ruled my life. Luckily I don't anymore, but the walls are down. We can't unknow that I poop, or that Shark Bait poops. Look, I get that it is private and it's gross, but it's necessary.
So, if you are reading this and you didn't know your significant other poops, I'm sorry I just ruined it for you. Let me just come clean and let you know also that Santa...fraud. Easter Bunny? Nope. Tooth Fairy? If you moved out of your parents home, dead. The Great Pumpkin? Jury is out on that one, I don't know for sure.
I'm sorry. Someone had to tell you.
So, I don't know if we are going to try and re-create any boundaries, but the foundation is here if we decide to embark on such a journey. 2016 is going to be an interesting year. The possibilities are endless. The poop...also endless, but now, it might just be none of anyone's business. I might be able to add some mystery to my persona. I mean, I probably won't because I'm an over-sharer, but if I wanted to...I can.
Look at me really reaching for the stars...and it's only January 1st.
More to come, my friends...more to come (I wasn't even meaning poop when I just said that, look at me already creating boundaries).
Something that happened today, however, may help me through this transition. Today, Shark Bait and I returned home after running errands. We both had to go to the bathroom. Now, normally, when we lived at the cabin, when this situation arose, we immediately went into negotiations. You know, like, "Ok, so do you just have to pee or are you going to camp?" "I'm going to be a while, you go first." Or, if we were both in a jam of sorts, we'd say, "Ok, do you just have to camp or do you actually have a peeker? Like, how close to shitting your pants are you?" "I can probably hold it, but hurry up." This was our life. There were no secrets. When you essentially have one big room and then a bathroom contained in it's own room in the corner, you really don't have a lot of mystery about what's going on. At our prior home, and the one before that, and the one before that, we also just had one bathroom. We were fortunate for a long time that we had different get ready for work schedules, so we could kind of avoid some overlap.
At any rate, today was different. Today we were able to go to different ends of the house in our own space. Our own bathrooms. I mean, I didn't know how long Shark Bait was going to be, I didn't ask. I didn't need to know. It was amazing. I couldn't hear him doing anything. He couldn't hear me. I didn't rush. I may have lingered an extra 30 seconds and I took my time washing my hands and assessing what was going on with my hair in the mirror. I mean, my pants were zipped and buttoned and I didn't look disshelved like I was recently a victim of a crime in a hurry leaving the scene when I walked out of the bathroom. Now, this is a work in progress situation, because I did leave the door open. I mean, when you don't have any boundaries, why shut the door? In a pee situation, there isn't really any need to shut the door. If your taking the Browns to the Superbowl, yeah, shut the door.
This brings up a valid question. Because all boundaries are down, can boundaries be re-established? Should they be? I don't know. Out of habit, we are still sharing the bathroom in the morning. Like, I'm in the shower and there is Shark Bait, sitting on the toilet. Is that going to stop? Is the habit so ingrained that it cannot be unlearned? Is there any reason to unlearn it? I mean, we are okay with it. He poops. I poop. We know each other poops. I mean, we don't rejoice in the experience and purposely engage in the process if not required, but you know, we are used to it.
I have seen this debate unfold on Facebook and other places and it seems there is a definite opinion to be had on this. "You'll ruin the romance in your relationship!" Well, first of all, Shark Bait isn't super romantic anyway. He's mushy, but I wouldn't say romantic. For example, the day we got the keys to this new house, Shark Bait was starting to bring things over and I was at work. The first thing he brought was a pony refrigerator magnet and a stuffed pony. He took a picture of them in the new house and texted it to me. That's pretty sweet. That's the stuff Shark Bait does. We don't do candles, wine and music and any of that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff. So, I would say, we haven't ruined the romance. I mean, do we joke about poop far more that is probably necessary? Sure. When you live in place where there are no secrets, there are times when you have to say, "So, you're gonna want to stay out of there for a while..." Or, all the sudden you get a whiff of something and you are like, "Oh Em Gee...what the hell happened in there? Did something DIE???" And, I'm not going to lie, the words, "I think I just pooped something the size of a baby's arm...I think I need to drink more water..." have been said in our home. Shit happens.
Some people are like, "As far as my spouse knows, I don't poop and they don't poop." Like, there is water running or excuses or lengths people go to so that they can avoid their partner knowing that they are pooping. Maybe it is just a personality thing, I don't know. Maybe I am just an over-sharer that managed to hook up to someone that could care less. We were the perfect storm and now we are one perfect storm of pooping perfection. Like, I don't have to pretend that I had a make-up crisis and that's what took so long, or that I got something in my eye. I was pooping. Period. I might even have done things in there that created a disturbance in the force. I don't know. I'm just saying, I left the fan on and yes, I sprayed. None of this is lady-like. None of this is delicate. I think I've been broken from this one bathroom situation that has gone on for far too long. It didn't help that I used to have IBS when Shark Bait and I first met, so pooping pretty much ruled my life. Luckily I don't anymore, but the walls are down. We can't unknow that I poop, or that Shark Bait poops. Look, I get that it is private and it's gross, but it's necessary.
So, if you are reading this and you didn't know your significant other poops, I'm sorry I just ruined it for you. Let me just come clean and let you know also that Santa...fraud. Easter Bunny? Nope. Tooth Fairy? If you moved out of your parents home, dead. The Great Pumpkin? Jury is out on that one, I don't know for sure.
I'm sorry. Someone had to tell you.
So, I don't know if we are going to try and re-create any boundaries, but the foundation is here if we decide to embark on such a journey. 2016 is going to be an interesting year. The possibilities are endless. The poop...also endless, but now, it might just be none of anyone's business. I might be able to add some mystery to my persona. I mean, I probably won't because I'm an over-sharer, but if I wanted to...I can.
Look at me really reaching for the stars...and it's only January 1st.
More to come, my friends...more to come (I wasn't even meaning poop when I just said that, look at me already creating boundaries).
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