Bathtime for Mommy

I have been feeling very sore lately. Likely a combination of the stretching of the muscles in preparation for birth and the fact that the bun must weigh around 100lbs. I would love to take a bath, but seeing that we have an ancient, pedestal tub that I can't clean, the idea seems lost.

Last night, the hubby got down and cleaned it, so I could get in and take a leisurely, uninterrupted bath. I'm sure you can see where this is going. I have some strange rules when getting ready to take a bath. You see, while I'm not a filthy person, I find it imperative that I take a quick shower to get all the average grime off. I don't want to sit in any scum, my own or anyone else's really. So, I take a quick shower, turn off the water and move the shower curtains to get ready to fill the tub. If you don't move the shower curtains, they will wrap their cold, wet plastic around you and it feels worse than bathing in your own dirt. YUCK! I am standing there, freezing, while I get the temperature correct. It finally feels hot enough so I sit down, keeping my foot over the drain cover so it doesn't leak. Actually, the real drain cover is missing, so hubby improvised with a Gladware lid, that actually worked better, though I did have to keep my foot on it til the tub was filled. Anyway, I tuck into the warm water, which seems to be draining at an alarming rate. Seems, that the depth of the water, which isn't very high, is overflowing into the overflow drain. I am now understanding that back in the 1920's, when the house was built, that there were no pleasure baths, only get in and get out baths. I stick my foot over the bottom part of the drain and it seems to be halting the water. I try to relax.

This is not a big tub and while I am not exactly Liliputian, I don't consider myself that big. My arms either have to be at my sides, nearly under my body, or hanging over the side, and cold. My legs are bunched up, trying to keep the water in, or they too have to hang out the front of the tub. The bun isn't even wet, in fact, most of the top of my body is already dry and I can't turn over. I am not particularly comfortable.
Then, the unthinkable happens. My 4 year old busts in the door takes off her gown and demands to get in the bath with me. I tell her no, get dressed and go hang downstairs with your daddy and brother. This, of course, doesn't work. I'm not relaxing anyway, so I let it go. She gets dressed, points out that I am naked and decides I need something to play with. What she doesn't see, is that I am taking up the entire bathtub and there is very little water for anything. Like the good girl she is, she opens the cabinet and gets out her rubber ducks, tossing them into the tub and splashing my face with water. They play, we play, whatever, before she decides that my massive tummy would be a great island and sets the ducks on me, concocting this little story along the way. It is rather entertaining, however, not too relaxing. On top of this, I hear the words, "Eggnog," echoing from downstairs from Max. I decide the bathwater is too cold and tell Mia to collect her ducks and let me get out.

Getting out proves interesting. I need a stool to get in and out already, but being big and pregnant and having the stool not there, is another story. I hoof it over the side and grab my towel, get dressed and brush my teeth. Maybe another time.