April Showers

I am about to embark on a never before conceived adventure.  I never believed this day would come, and the butterflies are nearly insurmountable.  I knew it had to happen eventually, but the thought still sends my heart reeling.  I am all alone today with no one to watch my little one, and its imperative that I shower.  When I say imperative I cannot even express to you the magnitude of which I speak.  I am covered in little bodily fluids, my hair says, "I've been camping for three weeks!" and my feet, having gone barefoot the last few days, are the exact color of my driveway.

Every Mom remembers the first time they left their child, sleeping gently, in the other room while they ran down stairs for a life saving cup of coffee or to check the mail.  But, a shower?  I mean, there's noise interference! What if my  200 dollar, water-proof baby monitor can't pick up her faintest whimper? What if she makes no noise at all and I have to run out, dripping water all over our lovely hardwood floor just to check if she's breathing?

Alas, this must be done.  So, wish me luck.  I'm going in. And I'm not coming out until my feet are pink, I can get a brush through my hair and I smell like something other than sour milk.  Unless, she fusses.  Or cries.  Or breathes.  Or doesn't breathe. Pray for my neurotic self.