Bathtime

Patrick got a bath the other day, not an unusual occurrence. This kid loves his baths, and sometimes he gets them more because it's easy entertainment for him than anything else. Just for kicks, I'm going to tell the story of the most recent bath. It's pretty typical--at least up until the end.

Everything starts when I get up and head towards his bathroom. He gets excited from the start because he thinks at the very least, I'm going potty, which is also another exciting event for him. He loves going into the bathroom because normally we won't let him wander in and out of there alone.

As soon as we're through the door, Patrick toddles happily over to the tub to pick up his shampoo and/or soap to carry around. I grab a towel and washcloth from under the sink, which Patrick notes is different than usual. He watches me carefully as I lean down next to the tub. The second he hears the water turn on, he squeals with delight. Now he's figured out what's coming next.

Perhaps for privacy's sake or more likely because he loves doors, he closes the door during one of his wild trips back and forth across the bathroom while I start filling the tub. As soon as I can catch him, I strip him down. He loves being naked almost as much as he loves the bath itself. I lift him into the tub to get an early start playing as the water finishes filling the tub. He immediately dives (not literally) for his toys, choosing one or two favorites that he will hesitate to abandon for any other toys during the whole bath.

I try to sneak in the cleaning without him noticing. He tries to duck his head out of the way when he sees the water and shampoo coming for his hair, but he eventually submits. I've learned to wash his hair quickly so as not to interrupt his play time for long. He seems to enjoy the soap, though; I make a game of it, tickling him as I wash his belly and arms in particular. The giggles echo off the walls of the bathroom, and he laughs harder when he hears the unusual sound.

During this last bath, the standard yellow rubber duckie was one of his chosen toys. Several times he handed me the duck (we're learning sharing), and I oohed and aahed appropriately before he snatched it back up. Not being one to turn down a learning opportunity, I reminded him it was a duck and that ducks say "Quack, quack" as he grabbed the duckie. For the first time, he repeated, "Ca, ca" after me. The next time I reminded him it was a duck, he was telling me it says quack before I could get to that part. Then a few minutes later I made the duck quack, and Patrick looked at me and said, "Dah!" For those few minutes anyway, he got it.

Finally I start to worry about the pruny feet and consider ending the bath, even though Patrick is clearly still enjoying it. This time he happened to mutter, "Ah-dah" right as I was considering that, so I took advantage of the moment to agree that it was time to end the bath. He refused to let go of his bath toys as the water drained, and I still had to pry one from his hand after lifting his slippery body out of the tub.

He never fights as I wrap the huge towel around him and pick him up to take him into the other room for diapering, lotioning, and dressing. His favorite part of our post-bath activities is the lotion. Long ago we made a tickle game out of it, and I tell him what part of his body I'm lotioning. He loves it when I get to his belly, and he giggles and fights my lotiony hand. Eventually his whole body gets lotioned, but it does take longer with the play fighting. I don't mind.

This time, I planned to put him in a new outfit from Gigi. The weight suggestions on the tag told me he should be about to outgrow it already, and I wanted to make sure he wore it at least a couple of times (I needed pictures anyway) before that happened. The shirts and shorts didn't seem too tight when I was putting them on him, though, so I was already questioning their size suggestions.

Finally he was dressed, and he told me "Ah-dah!" and I repeated him, as usual. He got up, grabbed his lotion before I could return it to its official spot on his dresser, and toddled into the other room while I put up the wet towel and dirty clothes. By the time I got into the living room, this is what I found:
I think he might just get to wear this outfit a few more times before he outgrows it...

After laughing so hard I almost had to change my own pants--and capturing his embarrassment on camera as any good mother would do--I gave up and made him comfortable for the day. The pants and outer shirt disappeared, and he spent the lazy day in a diaper and T-shirt. It's summer; he can get away with that.

I think he was a little happier with that compromise:

Definitely silly boy!