Tonight I gave my baby boy a bath.There’s nothing unusual about that. I’ve given hundreds, maybe even thousands, of baths during my tenure as a mom. Tonight I didn’t really do anything different with Jedidiah, but somehow it felt different. We felt more connected somehow.
As all moms are, I’m an expert multi-tasker. My brain always seems to be going a mile a minute, and these days I find it hard to concentrate on any one thing for long.
When bathing the kids, most of the time I catch myself thinking of all the other things that I need to get finished before I go to bed: brush four sets of teeth (no wait – make that five if I remember to do my own), put baby lotion on the baby, put on a clean diaper (not on me, on the baby), put on a clean Pull-up (again, not me), fill up three water bottles, find Blankie, Snoopy, Adelaide’s Dorothy doll, nurse Jed, check the laundry, feed the fish, call my mom, finish my (cold) dinner, put the dishes in the dishwasher, return some e-mails, exercise (well, I might put that one off till tomorrow), put a stamp on the letter that’s been sitting on the counter all week, etc.
I usually sit on the floor and spend Jedidiah’s bath-time making a mental list (which will eventually make it onto paper if I can find a pen in this house that writes.) Tonight, though, I actually just sat on the side of the tub and watched him play.
I noticed some things that normally I would miss:
•the sheer joy on his little face, the glee in his eyes as he smacks the bubbles with the palm of his hand.
•the drool on his chin, the happy splutters and raspberries he blows, the “googie-googie-googies” he yells out, just to hear his own voice echo off the walls.
•the pudgy little hands grasping for his little yellow rubber ducky, almost, almost… oh, not quite. Try again, buddy.
•the teeny pink feet, churning the water like tiny pink pistons on chubby legs.
He is not a bit concerned about his round little belly, his roly-poly thighs, or his gorgeous baby fat rolls.
His hair sticks up all over in a mini-Mohawk. It somehow always gravitates to the middle of his head.
He is absolutely perfect.
I think about how it must feel to him – the warm water, the bubbles, the splashing sounds all around him, the way the water drips down his little back. What an interesting experience bathtime must be for a one year old.
And what a wonderful experience to see the everyday things in our lives through the eyes of a sweet baby.
I guess I should give him my full attention more often.
from my article for www.mentorpatch.com on 3/18/12
