The Three Bath Day

Some of you may be familiar with the term “a three dog night”.” This phrase, which is also the name of a rock band, is popularly believed to come from the Australian outback. It describes a night so bitterly cold that it would require snuggling up to not one, not two, but three dogs in order to keep warm. It is a way of qualifying the cold: one dog, it’s not too bad out. Two dogs? It’s cold, but not unbearable. But three dogs- that’s a teeth chattering,  bone chilling cold.

So it is with bath time at our house. One bath? That’s routine- although I will be the first to admit that bathtime is not an integral part of the sacred ritual of “bedtime” that is for so many families with little ones. In fact, there have been times when so many days have passed between baths that I can’t remember when I last bathed the girls. As long as hands and faces can be cleaned with a wipe, and there isn’t too much goop in their hair, I’m pretty relaxed about bathing.

Anyway, one bath is routine. Two baths is a sign of a really fun, we-had-all-sorts-of-adventures kind of day. I really like two bath days- it means the girls were running around working up a sweat, or that we did something that required sunscreen, or that they got into paint or cookie dough. All good things.

But Dear Reader, I recently encountered for the first time ever the Three Bath Day. And as good as a Two Bath Day is, the Three Bath Day is as horrible.

The day started out at 3:45am when first Pixie, then Bug, woke up crying and came into bed with us. Except, when you have two toddlers, one Mama, and one RevEv in the bed there isn’t much sleeping going on. There simply isn’t enough room for everyone to have the space they need to sleep. Plus the girls decided it was time to play, and RevEv is a pretty fun jungle gym. So I took the girls downstairs to the couch, wrestled with them for a while, and finally gave up. They were more than happy to play with their books, blocks, and dirty socks while I watched watched I Love Lucy through my eyelids.

After breakfast it was time for a bath. Bug has been consistently leaking out of her diapers at night, which typically means it’s time to move up in size but I am bound and determined to finish up this box of Pampers so help me, which means she was pretty stinky. So into the tub they went. It was an uneventful bath, except that RevEv had removed the bathmat because it was grungy, so there was a fair bit of slipping and sliding going on.

Because the day had started at 3:45, and because days that start at 3:45 typically don’t put Mama in a good mood, we made chocolate chip cookies. The girls helped to dump in the sugar and chocolate chips, and to “clean” up afterwards. 

The girls got in a nap while I cleaned up and had another cup of coffee, which is when I had the brilliant idea of doing an art project when they woke up. I got everything ready: I taped paper to the wall of the shower, secured the tray of watercolors to the soap stand, and gathered the brushes. All was going well- the girls were delighted!- until Pixie lost her footing and took a tumble which left everyone in tears. Epic Mommy Fail.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, and I even felt productive as I made soup for all of us to have for supper. I pureed some of it for Pixie and Bug to have for their supper, and it was a hit! ‘More, more!’ they signed excitedly, and I happily gave it to them. It was full of good things: kale, chickpeas, tomatoes, potatoes, sausage... they couldn’t seem to get enough of it! And since they are incredibly independent, and insist on feeding themselves no matter how messy the meal may be... 

You guessed it, time for another bath! This time, however, in the kitchen sink, in order to avoid any more tumbles in the tub.

After our baths we put on jammies, had milk, and snuggled on the couch, waiting for RevEv to come home from a meeting. We were all settling down when suddenly Bug picked up her, made a gagging sound, and BLEGH. She puked everywhere. It dripped down my nursing tank and down my back. I looked and it covered half of Pixie’s face. Immediately both girls started crying and I tried to move as quickly as I could. I set Bug down on the floor to clean up Pixie’s face when BLEGH! there she goes again. Startled, she took a few steps back, whimpering, and she retched again. Few steps back, retched again. All across the living room. Kale-chickpea-tomato-sausage-potato puke spewed EVERYWHERE. I stripped us all down and rushed upstairs, plopping Pixie in her crib before hopping in the shower with Bug to hose off, which she didn’t like one bit.

Finally, everyone was clean, dry, and puke-free. We snuggled in the glider for more kisses and milk, and then went to bed. I went downstairs to clean the living room and have a nice, cold drink, thankful that tomorrow would be a new, and hopefully bath-free, day.