The point of a bath is not to bathe
Growing up, my mom was all about the bubble bath. She still is, actually. Next to a beach or a spa, it is probably her favourite place in the world.
Me? Not so much. I’m a shower girl. It’s quick, efficient, and easier to wash my (lonnnnng) hair. I grew up in a house with a really shitty not-so-great well, so I’m an extremely fast showerer — although sometimes I linger under the hot water to let it relax my shoulders (if I’ve been toting around Baby Boy all day).
In the almost-four years we’ve lived in our condo, I have not really taken advantage of our super-deep jacuzzi tub. Before I got pregnant, I used it maybe once a week. Then I got all knocked-up, and found it too hard to climb in and out. Since having Baby Boy, I’ve barely gone near it.
Until last week.
And I finally, finally, finally understand why my mom loves baths.
At least I think I do.
It’s all about the escape! It all makes sense now! You see, last week I’d had a couple of extremely long, trying days at home alone with Baby Boy. By the time Darling Husband came home from work around 6 p.m., I was “just done,” in the words of Kate Gosselin. I was exhausted, grubby with baby food, and thoroughly exasperated from dealing with our angelic little eight-month-old.
Darling Husband suggested I take the car and go somewhere by myself, but I wasn’t up to it. It was only an hour until we’d need to begin the All Powerful Bedtime Routine, and plus, I was just in no shape to go anywhere. But at the same time, I was desperate to go somewhere (a.k.a. away from the baby).
Suddenly, I had the best idea. I dumped the baby on his lap and said, “I’m getting in the bath. Have fun.”
I grabbed my robe, a book and a bottle of water. As soon as I turned on the taps, I knew it was the right decision. The roaring of the tub filling drowned out the din from the living room. I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear Darling Husband. I couldn’t hear the TV. I was blissfully ALONE.
Of course, being in the tub, with the jets blasting, was also nice. But that’s besides the point of a bath, I have learned.
The chance to be ALONE, in a QUIET ROOM, read MY book with interruption? Now that was priceless.
I may be a shower girl, but I’m going to start trying this “bath” thing a lot more often.
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Heather's Handmade Life 