Bath Time Torture

My babies hate baths. We go through the ordeal twice a week, and each time I hope maybe this time it will be okay…

I set up the baby tub carefully on the dining room table, a nice fluffy towel, some cotton balls, baby shampoo. Undress the first baby, she’s fine. Take her over to the tub, she’s fine. Wipe a little water on her face with a washcloth, sometimes she’s okay. Dip her in the tub WAAAAaaaaAAaAH! And then, as the bath continues, the cries grow hysterical. Wah! Wah! Wah! Wah!

Meanwhile I try to remain calm, speak soothingly. “It’s juuuuust water. Nice warm water. It’s really not that bad, is it? It’s really not that bad, is it? Beginning to wonder myself if it is somehow bad, hands shaking. Does this bring up traumatic NICU bath memories of some sort? Nerves fraying.

Our pediatrician recommends a bath as part of a nice, soothing, go to bed ritual. Not in our house. Today is bath day. Actually yesterday was bath day, but I just didn’t have it in me. Twice a week the dreaded day comes. I’ve gotten very quick at giving baths.

Note: I composed this blog in dread just before I had to give the twins a bath. I am happy to report that both baths went okay. Okay meaning there was some crying, but not the breathless, hysterical crying that sometimes ensues, and at least one twin smiled at me from the tub. So maybe we are getting somewhere. I remain ever-hopeful.

And ever-exhausted.

Yours,

Sparrow

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