All by myself

I haven't used the bathroom alone for nearly nine years. Okay, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, but privacy on the potty has been a rare treat and one that must be negotiated with the four other members of my household (five, if you count the cat, who is not above indignantly rattling the door and slithering his furry paws through the small crack beneath said door). Our older daughters are nearly 9 and 7 years old, so one might think their desire to spend time with me while I "do my business" would have passed. But this morning, after informing Smartie that I would be in the bathroom for a few minutes and that she would just have to survive the trauma of my momentary absence, I noticed a small toy being pushed underneath the door as she sat right outside, waiting for me. My first reaction was a quick flash of anger - but it quickly dissipated and was replaced by gratitude that she still wants me - that I am still (sometimes) the center of her world. Our oldest daughter, Sunny, will be nine in a few months...nine...that's halfway to 18...halfway to grown up and movin' out. I'm already wondering just what I will do with myself when my children are grown and gone. And our youngest is not yet three (!) The transition to motherhood is a difficult one, but we, or at least, I, begin to define ourselves in terms of our motherhood. So who do we become when our children are grown and no longer defining the structure of our days. Maybe I am having a mid-life crisis...