Tub Time
Some days are better than others and today was planned to be one of the better ones! I had it all figured out, everything under control. I had just enough time to relax in the bath this morning.
First, get my six year-old’s breakfast ready and serve it casual style (in front of the TV on the coffee table in the living room), check.
Next, turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas, he loves A Charlie Brown Christmas (which will give me about twenty minutes of me time), check.
Now, I run to my room, into the bathroom and turn on the bath water, HOT.
Bath Bomb is in! Bubbles are starting to form. Oh, I can’t wait. Come on tub fill up, I don’t have much time! I think while entranced by the water flowing from the spout.
“Maaameeee!” Azul’s bellow snapped me out of it.
“Yes, my love.” I said while heading back out to the living room to face my parental duties.
Whoa! To my surprise I was met in the hall by a naked little boy. “I want to take a bath,” he explained.
“I thought you were eating?” I probably sounded more exasperated than I meant to.
He replied, pushing his belly out in front of him as far as he could and rubbing it, “I’m full.”
“Okay. Let’s go fill up your tub, but first I’m going to turn my water off.” So, with my quiet time on hold we get Azul ready for his bath.
Thirty minutes full of bubbles, washing body parts and hair, and some playing went by as slow as you could imagine. All I wanted was a quick soak.
Azul is now out of the tub, oiled up, hair combed, with robe on and says, “Can I have a good boy bath treat?”
“You still have to eat your breakfast, then you can.” His breakfast was the only audience in front of the TV with the DVD’s menu running on repeat.
I follow him into the living room, make sure he is good, and set-up Charlie Brown again. Okay, we’re all good!
Now, I can continue where I left off, I turn my water back on, light the candles I have strategically placed around the tub to create a relaxing ambiance, and “Maaameeee!”
Aaugh!
I yelled back from my bathroom, “What, my love?”
Still in separate rooms, he yelled, “Can I have a good boy bath treat?”
“Did you finish breakfast?” I was not going to get tricked into going back to the living room, not this time.
The yelling continued, “Yes, I did.”
More yelling, “Then yes you can. I’m jumping into the tub, okay.” Spa music is now playing on Pandora.
“Okay,” he yelled back one last time.
I slide into the warm water filled with bubbles, start getting comfortable and … sit on something! I reach into my perfectly planned escape and pull out a wet sudsy plastic green army man! Why wouldn’t I?
Good grief Charlie Brown.
I see London, I see France, I see Mommy’s … WHAT?
Ever since my six year-old has been wearing underpants, we also call them “big boys,” there has been continuing conversation about the clothes we wear under our clothes. I am not shy about running around the house in my underwear, and I’m open to Azul doing the same. He is very comfortable with his body (he’s just a little boy — an innocent, sweet thing) and I want to reinforce that behavior for as long as I can. So, it’s basically a free-for-all here, clothing optional.
A new conversation in our house started recently about American Horror Story, which my husband and I have been watching, starting with the first season. I know we are jumping on this bandwagon a little late, but we’re on it now, at full speed.
Azul became very curious about our newly found addiction to freaks on TV, because of course, he is NOT watching it with us. He knows it’s scary and inappropriate for him, and most importantly, he know there is no chance of him ever seeing it! But he does want to be able to talk about the fact that he knows it exists by interjecting the little that he understands about the show in casual conversation.
So, when you put all of this together, you get a typical underpants conversation with me making fun of Azul’s “big boys” and add in a little horror with Azul’s comeback.
“Your underpants are a WHORE!” was what he said to me.
Once I stopped laughing, I asked him to repeat what he had just said. Just in case I heard wrong.
I heard right.
So, through a giggling voice I asked, “Do you know what the word whore means?”
“Yes.” He responded with the utmost certainty. Then, with his best ghost impersonation continued, “It’s something scaaary.”
“Oh, Horror!” I repeated in relief. “I get it, my underpants are a horror, and they are scary. Yes. That’s funny. Good comeback. H-O-R-R-O-R.”
My real life American mommy horror story!
Bridging The Gap
Now as a mother, I am enamored with the ability children have to learn. They are able to take separate concepts and join them together to create some kind of understanding by relating one thing to another. And once this collection of knowledge is formed by association, the possibilities to comprehend seem endless.
This morning Azul inquisitively asked, “Why do we have this thing between our two eyeballs and over our nose?” while touching his face.
“You know what that’s called between your two eyeballs, don’t you?” Sometimes I answer his questions with a question, I want him to be able to make the connection himself.
“What?” A typical six year-old response, he still wanted my answer.
“The bridge, it’s the bridge of your nose,” I finally replied.
“Oh,” he paused, “Then I bet the eyes are called lakes!” he excitedly stated, using his knowledge to make it come together.
“That is very logical,” I said, sounding kind of Spock-like, and then, “It makes sense to me!” sounding much more mom-like. The conversation continued as to why we have a nasal bridge, and together we laughed at each other and with each other, bridging the gap between each other.
Carmelina Hart 