Sometimes I run to the bathroom. Other times I quietly sneak away there.

Sometimes I take an extra long time in the shower, or spend more time getting ready — just so I can be in the bathroom that much longer.

My oldest daughter is nine, my middle daughter is almost seven, and my baby is two and a half.

Things wouldn’t be so overwhelming at times if it weren’t for the fact that my husband has spent the past year with chronic, and at times, excruciating back pain. He had surgery over a year ago, but it didn’t work out like we’d hoped.

Since then, we’ve tried a million different things to try to relieve the pain, but nothing’s seemed to work — until, we got a second opinion from one of the best neurosurgeon’s in the state. He says he’s found the source of the problem and can make my husband pain free. Ah! What a relief!

His surgery will be in less than a month, and as we get closer to the “big day” I’ve been pondering this past year and have discovered that it’s been my bathroom that has been my haven throughout it all.

The wonderful thing about my bathroom is that there’s a lock on the door.

I know, I know. Most bathrooms have locks on their doors, but there are some that don’t, and I sure don’t envy the moms who have those.

“Mom! Can I have this?” Or “Mom! Can I have that?” Are what I hear a million times a day. “Mom, can I have something to drink?” “Mom, can you help me with my homework?” “Mom, I have to go potty!” “Mom, Brittany’s hitting me!” “Mom, Lindsay wont let me play on the computer!”

It’s always, “Mom this!” Or “Mom that!” They know better than to bother dad — he’s in too much pain.

Where do I go to find a moment’s peace?

Where do I go to just catch my breath or gather my thoughts?

There’s no where in the house I can be alone, except, that is — the bathroom. So, that’s where I go to, even run to at times.

Once in my bathroom, I push that little button-lock on the doorknob and I am free, if only for a moment. No one can see me, no one can even hear me — I am totally and completely alone!

Sometimes I just fall on the floor and cry. Other times I get on my knees and pray. But most of the time, I just open up the window and feel the fresh air on my face. I look outside into my woods and breath in and out. In the dead of winter, it’s cold, but I don’t care. In the summer, it’s hot and humid, but I don’t care. It’s a moment alone, and that’s all that matters to me.

What would I do without that lock on the door? I don’t know.

There have been many times that I’ve snuck away into my “hiding place” and within seconds there’s a little girl’s hand on the doorknob on the other side trying to open it. It’s at these moments that a smile tugs at my face. I see the knob trying to move, but it won’t! There is nothing, and no one, that can interrupt my solitude, and it’s all because of that lock on my doorknob.

I don’t hide in there for long — just a few minutes, maybe five at the most. But, it’s just enough time. It’s just what I need to rejuvenate myself, so I can walk out and face the busyness of my world once again — to help my daughters with their problems, feed them supper, or breakfast, or lunch.

Just give me those few minutes, a few times a day, in my bathroom — my haven — and I can accomplish anything.

Karin A. Lovold kal3860@chartermi.net

Karin says, “I’m thirty-five years old, and I’ve lived in Minnesota all my life. I’ve been married for thirteen great years to Michael, and we have three beautiful daughters: Lindsay, age nine, Brittany, age six, and Tiffany, age two.