A few nights ago I started another normal bath time. It goes something like this...adult starts the tub and then plays defense against the toddler who tries to get into said tub fully dressed. Strip toddler, and commence dreaded hair washing as quickly as possible. Man handle toddler to keep her IN the tub, and then throw some toys in and if adult's patience is not gone by this late hour - let toddler play for a bit after a wash up. Remove toddler and try to dry off before said toddler then does the ritual naked laughing lap around the house.
After hair washing, the nugget wanted all her toys. And I gave them to her...one by one. We went through the name of every letter or animal as we went. Then she lined them up, one by one on the ledge and I flicked them back in, which was apparently the most entertaining thing ever. I let the water drip and splash WELL out of the confines of the tub (a big no-no in my world) and all over me. Now, I'm not claiming to have become #1 mom that evening...I just had a momentary comforting thought.
That evening, the nugget wanted nothing more (except maybe an ice cream cone) than to have me sit close while she was in the tub and interact endlessly with her. At the same time, deuce was buried deep inside me, and as much as I worry, as safe as that baby will probably ever be. I had both my kids close and safe (OK, and under my control for the most part). Neither one wanted me to get away, or be quiet, or not be seen with them. Neither of them yelled at me to give them privacy or looked at me like my adult wisdom was a load of archaic crap. All of this stuff I expect and hope not to take too personally when it comes, but that night, it hadn't come yet. So I decided to take a minute to soak it in.
|Silly Water Baby|