Long Overdue Bath

I'm thinking I shouldn't admit this after my previous blog, but if it makes me a worse mommy then so be it: Marta hadn't had a bath in about four days. Maybe five. So today, after I noticed some PJ fuzz stuck in the folds of her neck, I declared bath-or-bust. Plus, we went to the apple orchard where they have animals to pet and she did, and she also ate her fair share of grass, so not doing a bath may have pushed my husband to start shopping for pretty nannies. Anyway, bath day.

Trevor was still working so Berit and I trooped upstairs, she with her baby, me with mine, and ran the bath. Marta is the next Michael Phelps, and she started bouncing as soon as she heard the water going. Hooray! Baby (babies, if you count Berit dipping her doll) in the bath. Berit needed to wrap her baby up and put her to bed. Fine, she's two-and-a-half, she can do it all by herself. I tend to the wiggly baby in the tub who requires us to WEAR a towel while we bathe her, because she splashes so huge. Then Berit calls out, "I need help!" from the landing, and I look at Marta, content in her little tub where she can lie back and be totally safe, and consider Berit, doing who knows what on the landing by the stairs, and wonder how I'm going to handle the situation. Turning a blind eye to the instructions on Marta's tub to NEVER LEAVE THE BABY UNATTENDED, EVEN FOR A MOMENT, I run out to Berit and help her open a door that's closed too tight. I run back into the bathroom and see Marta just hanging out in the tub. Whew. And then I see it. You guessed it, I know: Poop. Thank goodness I got back before she took up the super splashing again. I whip her out of the tub and am glad to see it's more solid than runny and seems to be in just one spot. I attempt to lay her on the towel but she does this lovely thing these days where if I try to put her down EVER, she dives into my lap and crawls back up into my arms. So she's wet, poopy, and she won't lay down on the darn towel because she doesn't appreciate being put down. Ever.

Finally I stretch her out and get her down and I see that the whole time she was clamoring to get back into my arms, she was pooping. Now there's poop, well, everywhere. And hey, where's Berit?

Don't worry Mom, Berit is fine, playing in her room like a little angel of course. So I wipe poopy baby off with poopy towel, get another towel and get her into her jams. Poopy tub waits for Trevor to return home to dump it, since I have a toddler and a baby who doesn't let me put her down (ever) sitting in my lap. Yes, I disinfected everything. But still. Poop in the tub is no fun, but is kind of funny.