Bath Time

Today has been mostly awful with moments of being completely terrible. The moving process is taking its toll, complete with a broken boxspring and missing baby bibs. Half of my sewing stuff is in boxes in the corner of the living room, the other half taking up space in my mom’s basement. My fabric stash is safely stowed in the back of my dad’s truck (with the cover on) and I have no idea where my ribbons are.

With a baby who’s starting to teethe and is thus absolutely miserable and a first grader who is begging for attention and insists that he help take care of his baby sister, the kids have me ready to pull out my hair. Add much well-meaning, though occasionally condescending, advice and most of the adults in my life have me there, too.

Needless to say, I’m a bit stressed at times.

Every day at 7pm, everything comes to a screeching halt, and my world turns pink and baby scented.

7 o’clock is bath time for my Panda and we both need it. She’s started eating solid foods and they get everywhere. I’ve threatened to strip her naked and feed her in the bathtub and one of these days I may follow through on that.

Splashing and giggling in the warm water tires her out and winds her down at the end of the day. Washing her and playing with her as she splashes and screeches gives me a break and reminds me of my sense of perspective.

Panda dislikes getting out of the tub, even as her eyes droop and she searches for her thumb. We tickle and giggle getting her pajamas on and I nurse her just before bed. She falls asleep in her bassinet, covered in a pink blanket that says, much to my protest, “Princess”.

Girding my loins, I step back out into the world to deal with the latest crises that popped up while I was in my happy place but I got my down time and I’m ready for what the world and this moving adventure has to throw at me.


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