I LOVE taking pictures. I like to think I am halfway decent at it and I take pictures of everything, but really like taking pictures of nature and...my children! I love to scrapbook as well, but since that hobby takes a lot more time which I have none of, I end up with many pictures that will have to be cropped and put in albums at some point in the future. Even though I think I am an optimist, I have to concede that these albums may have to wait until the farther away future to be created, considering the oceans of time at my disposal.
There is one occasion that I do not have many pictures of. Actually, I think there are a total of 4 pictures in existence. That would be bathtime for my son. For some inexplicable reason this child has resisted bathtime since we have had him home, which would be since he was 6 weeks old.
Kaitlyn has always loved bathtime. In fact, it was a special bonding time for KK with daddy since I had the chance to breastfeed. Jim did not want me to bathe her; that was his job!
Alexander is the exact opposite. Every bath would end up in a screaming Alexander and both his parents with badly frayed nerves, ready to join in out of pure frustration. The minute he touched the water, his cute, smily face would turn into something worthy of the lead role in a scary horror movie. We tried everything: swaddling in a towel, special bath tubs, soothing music, low lights, candles yet nothing worked. For that reason he does not get baths anymore.
At least not the ones where he is in the bath tub. He has been getting sponge baths for many months now and we have gotten extremely adept at speed-bathing. He does not cry very much anymore, but talks instead.
He starts out slowly, a few dada's here and there, and we have some great conversations early on. Then, as I get closer to washing his face and hair, he gets a little louder and his sentences are longer: babababababa, dadadaha. I can see the little pouting of his lips when I wash his face and I quickly start to sing a song and manage to distract him. By the time I am done singing my song, I have dried his face and he has forgotten that he wanted to start wailing.
I calm him down a little more while I drizzle some water on his belly, which he likes, and get ready to start washing his hair. That's when he really starts to talk loud: babbbbaaabababbahabaha -quick breath-bbabababadhadadahababa-quick breath-etc.
It takes my less than a minute to wash his hair and voila, we are done! I quickly wrap him in a dry towel and hold him close to me to inhale the scent of my clean baby. At this point he has decided that it is too late to start crying and he gives me one of those brilliant smiles - and I decide that I am proud of myself for achieving another bathtime without tears.
Now, daddy had to put up with Alexander throwing a fit for about an hour the last time he bathed him. Somehow I don't think Jim will be fighting me for his turn any time soon...
