Bathtime with four kids is always an adventure. In fact, once the kids came and we experienced how busy and crazy the first night was with baths, we made the parental decision to have bath night only every other night. At dinner, Michael will say, “Is tonight bath night?” and if it is, it is generally followed by some groan and if not, excitement.
The kids, however, love bath night! With all the fun toys they ONLY get to play with during bath time, who wouldn’t? So, before we begin the bath adventure, I lay out all four kids’ pajamas, complete with pullup or diaper, whichever applies to whichever kid on the big bed in MP’s room. I begin to run the bath. Usually, Baby Girl is the first in, followed by N, then MP and finally R, once Baby Girl is done.
Bathtime usually goes fairly smoothly. Wash one kid, hand her off to Michael who diapers and dresses her while I put the 4th kid in the bath. Then so on, and so forth.
But Tuesday night was exceptional…Baby Girl was happily playing in the bath while I was undressing MP who was sitting on my lap. Unexpectedly, MP leaned down and took a big BITE out of my arm! Needless to say, I was not happy. If any of you have small kids you know that any action of discipline MUST be taken immediately after the offense in order for said discipline to be effective so, of course, MP headed straight to time-out, completely naked. Michael warned me this was a bad idea but biting had to be disciplined. After his alloted 2 minutes, Michael went to rescue him from time-out, only to find he had peed and was sitting in a nice little puddle on the time-out chair. Lovely.
Next, after Baby girl was snug in her jammies, she likes to crawl back into the bathroom to watch me bathe her big brothers. However, tonight, the bucket we keep all the bath toys in, happened to be sitting on the bathroom floor. Trying to get a toy out, she pulls the bucket, half-full of water, on top of her clean, dry self. Blunder #2.
But, just when I thought bathtime that night could not get any crazier. Little R, last one in the tub (thank GOD!) stands up halfway through me washing him and says “Mommy, I go poo poo.” and out comes a nice big, man-size poop from his tiny little bottom. He immediately starts crying hysterically and it took all I had inside of me not to as well. With a dirty tub, I had to drain it and then give R a shower for the rest of his washing, which only made him scream harder.
Sometimes, just when I think things are going well, something like this happens. An innocent mishap but an event which truly puts me in my place and helps me to remember my totally reliance on God in this whole thing. An my reliance on an AMAZING hubby who, after seeing my tears and frustration, promised to scrub the poopy tub after the kids were in bed…