Once Upon a Time, Baths Were Fun
May 1st, 2014
The vast majority of the time, I like having three kids. But there’s one particular time when I desperately miss the good old days when there was just one small person in the house.
I used to love bath time. When Miss Mouse was a baby, Josh and I bathed her together, often spending half an hour or more on the event, which involved squirty toys, funny washcloth mitts, and waterproof books. We have great video of her blowing raspberries in the tub and elaborate readings of Sandra Boynton’s “Bath Time” were a non-negotiable part of the nightly routine.
These days, I don’t much like baths.
It’s just not fun anymore. Bathing three kids is a huge production. Splashing around with toys for twenty minutes is fun once. Doing it three times? Not fun. Just exhausting. Not to mention time-consuming.
What’s that? Bathe them together? That’ll be fun, right?
Lord have mercy, no.
When you put kids in the tub together, fights break out, tsunamis crash over the sides and onto the floor, soap gets in people’s eyes (mine, usually), the baby gets knocked over, and someone is always – ALWAYS – accused of peeing in the tub. (Whether or not there is grounds for these claims is something I prefer not to dwell on.)
Even when it’s just two in the tub, it’s pretty rowdy. I tried all three once.
Bath time is trying. But they’re definitely cute when they’re all squeaky clean and wrapped in their respective hooded lion towels.
(Though getting a cute and G-rated photo of that moment proved to be difficult!)