We used to love bath time, the three of us, that is. We looked forward to it rather fondly. My wife and I because it signaled the moment just before “bedtime”, whereas for my son, it meant “splish splash” time when the bathroom turned into his own water park with rubber duckies, boats and such typical “bath time” paraphernalia. There was giggling and laughter. It was all very Norman Rockwell. Until last night.
Last night the spell was broken. The Fairy Godmother must have been off getting drunk with the dwarfs or something because that bath might as well have had snakes in it. I was, though, pleasantly, albeit, momentarily pleased to see that my son had miraculously learned to leap into my arms from the ground. As he sobbed rather audibly into my ear and trembled like a leaf we reassured him that although he might not think so he actually really liked taking baths. He would have none of it. So we tried the “look over there!” routine which is the first tactic most parents use on a crying child and depending on the moment and the tantrums can be more or less effective. You can’t tell your kid “look over there – a plane” when you are in the bathroom because they’ll just give you a brief and piercing “don’t be an idiot” look and continue bawling.
So there we were with a naked, semi-dripping, shaking, crying, peeing (I swear I felt a bit of a warm spot spreading), screaming child in my arms and no end in sight despite pulling out the big gun tactics (look bubbles, look daddy clapping like a seal, look dad pretending to be a chimp, and in general mom telling dad to look like this or that…). The look of self-pity we had on our faces was clearly reflected in the bathroom mirror.
We finally managed to calm him down enough to get him close to the tub to wash him without too much of a struggle, but the whimpering only subsided when we had finally wrapped him in a towel and whisked him away.
I returned to the bathroom as my wife finished preparing him for bed and observed the devastation, the bubble bottle leaking onto the floor, rubber ducky head first in the hamper, the mirror streaked with soapy liquid and so on and so forth. What was once an idyllic bathroom scene, where bath time was a family event filled with laughter and smiles, was no more – the age of bath time innocence was over.
Makes you wonder what was going on his head to do such a 180.
.-= WeaselMomma´s last blog ..Triple The Insanity, Triple The Fun =-.
My kids hate taking baths. Bath time has become quite stressful for my wife and me.
.-= Mocha Dad´s last blog ..Tough Talk =-.
We have had those bath times like that and they come out of nowhere sometimes. Like surprise attacks fromt he woods they catch us off guard. The idyllic bath time will come back but the innocences is gone
.-= SAHD PDX´s last blog ..Getting to know me, getting to know all about me =-.
We had that issue, but it was due to diaper rash. For a good week after she refused to get in the bath even though her rash was gone. Good luck.
.-= DC Urban Dad´s last blog ..Since when did snuggling become a contact sport? =-.
I'm 99% sure I used to be fed cheeseburgers from McD's at the age of 3 or 4 with no problems, then one day decided no more on mayo, mustard and ketchup. A sudden revulsion that lasts to this day.
I think what I am saying, is I hope your boy doesn't become me. The hygene thing is way harder to keep going for 30 years.
.-= Drew´s last blog ..On Breast Feeding And Such. =-.
Its been mine experience that there is always a reason behind something coming on so dramatically. Hope you figure it out so you can get back to your "normal" bath time routine. Good lUck
What the heck happened in that tub? I'm a lil scared myself now 🙂