Henry's face. His expression. It was calm, matter of fact, rather unimpressed. It said simply, "this is what we do and where we do it." Unfortunately, the "what" was pooping and the "where" was the bathtub. Said pooping had been foreshadowed just a minute before by a few bubbles in the water, just a bit of baby gas. Cute harmless little tub farts. It had been enough to get me on the alert, but when nothing happened, I fell back into a false state of calm, believing the little GooGoo's waste expulsion to be over for the moment. And for the moment it was, but then the moment passed just a little too quickly for my liking. Next thing I know, I'm scrambling out of the tub and calling The Ash for help. And Henry? Absolutely no help. He was downright casual about the whole matter. I can say that he at least didn't try to make it into a toy, but maybe that's because I got him out of that tub post-fucking-haste.
Nothing like a turd floatin' in the water to get everybody's adrenaline pumping.
Showing posts with label bath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bath. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
So fresh and so clean-clean
As you can see, Henry did not always like bath time.
The first time we tried bathing him in the little plastic sink insert baby tub, he was most displeased about it. My memory from those early days is fuzzy due to the tee-niny amounts of sleep we managed to get in between crying jags, but as I recall, he was downright hostile when it came to being placed in water. After a while though, he came around and starting being a little bit more okay with it.
In fact, one of the ways we managed to survive colic was to run a bath, get in the tub with him, and just hold him in the water. I remember the first time we tried this, I held him on the surface of the water and watched his eyes widen with amazement as if to ask, am I back in the womb? No son, just a bathtub in need of some scrubbing. After hours of crying, he finally just chilled out, and the house fell blessedly silent. The sensation of floating, the warm water, whatever it was, it seemed to have a very calming affect on him. Sadly for us, it wasn't permanent, and he enjoyed the bath so much by that point that he usually got pissed off all over again when we took him out.
These days, the bathtub is where it's at for little Hank. He loves the splashing, the bath toys, and just hanging out naked. Hey, these are worthy pastimes. And I'll tell ya, as of late, the end of his bath has become one of my new favorite times of the day. I wrap the little dude in a towel, pick him up in my arms, and he's so relaxed that he just puts his head down on my shoulder and we just chill, me and him. Man, that's just....man.
The first time we tried bathing him in the little plastic sink insert baby tub, he was most displeased about it. My memory from those early days is fuzzy due to the tee-niny amounts of sleep we managed to get in between crying jags, but as I recall, he was downright hostile when it came to being placed in water. After a while though, he came around and starting being a little bit more okay with it.
In fact, one of the ways we managed to survive colic was to run a bath, get in the tub with him, and just hold him in the water. I remember the first time we tried this, I held him on the surface of the water and watched his eyes widen with amazement as if to ask, am I back in the womb? No son, just a bathtub in need of some scrubbing. After hours of crying, he finally just chilled out, and the house fell blessedly silent. The sensation of floating, the warm water, whatever it was, it seemed to have a very calming affect on him. Sadly for us, it wasn't permanent, and he enjoyed the bath so much by that point that he usually got pissed off all over again when we took him out.
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