Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Bath Tub Highjacker

I realize that it's been quite some time since I've last shared any articles. I'm sure most of you are aware by now that our family has expanded. Secondborn joined our ranks on July 7, at 11:08 weighing in at 7 pounds and 2 ounces. She was just shy of 20 inches long. I was thrilled to be able to have a successful VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean). She has added immeasurable joy to our household as well as she has taken away from what little personal time I had before her arrival. That's a trade off that I have no problem with. Most days. Then there was the day we had on Sunday.
Firstborn had woken in the middle of the night with a high fever. We had to cancel Secondborn's prayer and dedication at our church not only because of his sickness, but also because Hubby had thrown his back out. That day I played Mommy to all three. By the end of the day I was done and extremely close to tears. After supper I begged to have a few minutes to myself alone in the bath tub with a copy of a magazine that was getting close to a month old, but still very much new to me. Hubby had Secondborn asleep on his chest while he was lying flat on the heating pad and Firstborn was engrossed with a Play Doh project at the kitchen table.
This was my moment and nothing was going to stand in my way. I locked myself in the bathroom and drew a hot, steamy bath. I was almost giddy thinking of how the next fifteen minutes would hold no diaper changes, no small child dangling from my boob, and no crying. I climbed in and began to block out the world of Elmo and spit up.
Not more than eight minutes into my relaxing soak did it begin. The crying. I distinctly remembered that I had stipulated my bath would have no crying, so I tried to ignore it. This crying was different though. This crying was coming from Firstborn and this crying indicated to me that some part of Firstborn must no longer be attached. I jumped out of the tub knowing that Hubby could do no jumping up as his back was out of whack. I unlocked the only barrier between me and what surely must be my severely maimed son. Once the door was open my ever so healthy and completely naked son pushed past me and climbed into my bath. My relaxing bath had just been hijacked by a two year old carrying a wide tooth comb. Not knowing what else to do I sunk back into my bath alongside my son and began to shed a few tears. So much for a bath with no tears.
*Editor's Note*
This is not my best work. Forgive me I'm somewhat sleep deprived with Firstborn still sick and typing with a baby latched onto your boob isn't that easy. Please continue to read on.