Have you ever given a kitten a bubble bath? If you have, I’m guessing you are already
forming a vision in your head of some small creature with adorable eyes and a
sweet smile loving you each and every second of the day, right up until you
sub-merge them in water. At that point,
the thrashing in the tub is elevated to severe and your floor is now covered in
water. Although you thought the nails
were trimmed on your lovable kitten, you have quickly realized that you were
mistaken. You now KNOW there are claws
but they are sunken so deep into the flesh of your arm that you cannot even see
them. In fact, you can’t see anything
but blood and your own tears.
Does any of this ring a bell?
Well, in our household this is the kind of treatment a
mother gets when she bathes a child. Not
because the child hates the bath, but because she absolutely doesn’t want to get
out of it.
I like to give my babe a bath in the evening if we both have
the time and energy, and it has always been a pleasant experience. There are over fifteen rubber ducks ready for
floating, her new set of bath drums, baby whales, and other miscellaneous
toys. The tub itself is quite large, so
there is enough room for my toddler-weight-carrying-self AND GiGi to gracefully
enjoy the bath. I sit at one end and she
stands and plays at the other. On most
nights, I read a chapter or two from one of my current reads, and she
plays. When I’m finished, we play water
piano or lately, water drums.
The most entertaining thing to do in the bath, I must admit, is
watching her try to stand on my bubble covered leg. It's like watching
a small lumberjack try to keep their balance and stay on top of a log
in one of those water/log rolling competitions. There’s
soaping up of little limbs and hair and lots of singing. In general – bath time is fun time for mommy
and the big girl.
As of late, my gorgeous faced girl has decided that bath
time is on her terms. According to her,
from what I gather, bath time should be around 17 hours long. When I decide that it’s time to get out, or
she has tried to bite the water more than fifty-seven times and I start to fear
she will drown in 6” of water, something snaps inside that little head of hers
and the party is over. For all of us.
Screaming, kicking, flailing around madly, and crying like I
just slammed her petite fingers in the door is all part of getting out of the
tub now. I try to tell her, “No,” in the
most polite but firm tone, and then move on to explain that our fun is over for
that evening and it’s time to get out, get dressed, and read a book. I am positive that this sounds like “blahblah blah BLAH blahBlahBlah, I’m ruining your best times in life and next I’m
taking away milk and strawberries BlahBlahblahbla,” to her, but I still persist
with the talking. She persists with the
kicking, until she realizes that it is MUCH more fun to arch her back and then
do the kick and wiggle combo. Always
like my girl to present a challenge and all.
I am in complete awe of her actions and I’m sitting there, naked
as a jaybird, with this little person who I thought was part of me, screaming
her head off. I didn’t know whether to
laugh, cry with her, or bless what bath water was left swirling down the drain
and then fling it at her chanting THE
POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! - super 1970’s Exorcist style. I let her ...
Ducks!
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