Radars

There was a time I referred to my kids as "my posse," but I'm starting to think "paparazzi" may be more accurate. I've concluded - and there could be more - that small children have at least three different radars:

1) The Sex Radar
2) The Bathroom Radar
3) The Phone Radar

If you're a parent, you know exactly what I'm talking about. For those who may yet be ignorant, I'll explain.

The Sex Radar
Eric and I used to joke about getting Abbie (then Jason and Joseph) a t-shirt that read "NO MORE BABIES!" because every single time we'd get some time alone, Abbie would start screaming. It wouldn't matter if she'd been asleep for hours, or if she was happily watching Sesame Street - hell, I'm not all that certain I didn't hear her scream from Grandma's house that one time.

She convinced us that she had no intentions of ever welcoming another baby into the family. That would mean she'd lose the exclusive attention, and we know we just can't have that.

By the way, The Sex Radar also includes those times when Eric and I just want some time alone in the bedroom. We don't necessarily have to be doing anything - maybe just *gasp* talking, but they will follow.

The Bathroom Radar
Even as a kid, the bathroom became my refuge from siblings and parents alike. I had to share bedrooms and so rarely had a place to just breathe.

Even then, my younger stepsister would follow me and pound on the door. "I have to go potty!"

They always wait until you're in there.

As a teenager, if I was having a particularly hard day (anxiety-ridden) and I was somewhere other than home, I would often hide in the bathroom.

But now? Hell no. Life will be good for a couple hours - Abbie will be at school, the boys will be outside actually playing well together, but the minute I decide to use the bathroom I hear this:

"Mooooooooom! Where are you?"

After a sigh, I decide to wait until Jason either figures it doesn't matter or he'll come looking. I don't want to yell.

But no.

"Moooooooommmmmmyyyyyy!"

"I'm in the bathroom!"

The doorknob turns. "What you doing?"

"Don't come in! I'll be right out."

He knocks. "What you doing?"

"Going potty! Go play!"

"I don't want to!"

@*&#%#!!!

The Phone Radar
Much like The Bathroom Radar, the kids will be playing nice, eating their snack, watching a show, something - but the minute that phone rings, I'm surrounded and interrogated.

"Who is it?"

"No one! Go play!"

"Is it Grandma?"

"No, shh!"

"Daddy? I want to talk to Daddy!"

"It's not Daddy!"

"I want to talk to Daddy!"

@*&#%#!!!

Jason has decided to take matters into his own hands. He knows the approximate time Daddy calls, and he will run into our bedroom to pick up the other handset. He's stealth about it, too. I'm starting to think he's part Ninja.

It's cute the first few times, but after a while it's irritating, and I realize that it's also entirely too convienient for him. Mommy and Daddy's room is far too much fun - and I'm sorry, but that is sacred territory. I try to keep it that way: kid free, toy free, etc. It doesn't always work, but that's my space.

When the bathroom doesn't work, that is.

I'm sure there are more kid radars - I'm at a loss at the moment, but I'm certain they will come to me. If you have any you know of, feel free to share.