Toddlers in the water!

I am a person who likes, even needs, to bathe. Not shower, but bathe. In the winter, I do it primarily for comfort ... it turns out I am only warmed through when submerged in scalding hot water for an hour. In the summer, I bathe as a method of decompression. I turn on the water and the jets, recline until I am submerged just over my ears, and then talk to myself in a soothing tone, saying things like "Everything is fine, Lisa. You just need to get away from your children for a few minutes. Relax ..." Yes, I really have this conversation with myself, sometimes more than once a day. In the cold months, I am so eager to jump in the tub, that I am willing to share my bathtub with my children. I started doing it to prevent Ava from drowning but now, I look at it as a valuable way to waste away time until dinner or John comes home or other daily staples. And it is (kind of) fun! But also, kind of not ... as I was moments ago, reclining for my evening bath, I noticed nine feet above my head, a pattern of hand lotion splattered there on the ceiling. Ah yes, I thought, that would be from the Ava incident of mid afternoon. HOW to get it off of the ceiling will be John's department. Telling him will of course come with the risk of direct blame. But then I could try to explain that I was changing Claire's diaper at the moment of splatter with bits of poo clinging here and there to the diaper, the bathrug, my hair while she wiggled around gleefully ... I was trying to keep us all calm with a little ditty about Clean Clean Clementine washing her hair with turpentine when Ava abruptly slammed a pump bottle of lotion (pump unscrewed and removed) down on the floor next to us with such force that lotion exploded out leaving globs here and there but primarily in my hair. And, as just discovered, the ceiling. The thing is, John never actually listens to more than the first word or two of these explanations and can you blame him. Honestly, who would believe my day?! I mean, if not present to see it first hand ...



My second bathing discovery was that my $$$ facial wash, formulated to eliminate wrinkles, age spots and pimples, had been pumped nearly dry. Augh! I gasped. Aurghhhhhhaaaaahhhh!!! Well Claire's skin has been looking so nice lately and now I might know why. Which reminds me of my matching $105 night cream that directs "apply liberally over entire body". Oh ha ha. I carefully deliver a half dot to my pinky and break that up into 100 equal parts which are allowed to soak into precise areas of my face. I am not slathering that overpriced snake oil anywhere that doesn't show and prominantly.



I will spare you my detailed tales of splashing away with the girls only to have Claire announce cheerfully "I peeing!". What??!! I yelp. GET OUT ... EVERYONE GET OOOOOUUUUUT! The evacuation takes a fraction of a second, less time than pee mixes with water. At least I hope. I also remember enough of chemistry to hope that pee and water are a mixture (as opposed to a solution). In any case, to be safe, I drain the water while we wait cold and shivering on the side so I can stand us all in the empty tub to be hosed off with the shower nozzle thingy, for which there seems no other use. So far, to my knowledge, I have not bathed in poo but I cannot be sure ...



Other interesting things about sharing a bathtub with toddlers is the toys. At the end of the day, I am tired, too tired to pluck out all of the rubber ducks, fishes and other marine life, so I just bathe with them floating around. Whatever. You're right, that isn't very interesting. So you know, we have a special bathroom complete with bathtub for our two littlest citizens. It hasn't been used in weeks.