Bath-Time

     We recovered from the shower curtain incident and in no time the boys were back to baths.  Baths with splashing, hiding behind the curtain (which I think in lieu of recent events, is a dangerous idea) and dumping wet toys onto Mommy and/or Daddy.
     You would think it's a novel concept; the procedure of getting soaped up and then washing the soap out in the bath.  Because every time we start a new bath, it seems the kids just want to play. Whether they're floating solo or together, the concept of water on the head just always seems to throw the boys into a tizzy.  Liam screams out with the drama of a 15 year old girl, "Towel!" Meanwhile Joshua reacts the same way to every cup of water dumped on his head.  He widens his eyes to about the size of a quarter and stretches out his whole cute round face. 
     For awhile we thought we had conquered the bath-time drama with a pair of swim goggles.  Boy did we feel smart.  True, Josh wasn't ready like his big brother to wear the goggles, but we knew it was only a matter of time.  True, the goggles didn't really end the splashing (in fact, it made splashing even more fun).  True, the goggles kept filling up with water and therefore the drama kept creeping back into bath-time.  Eventually Liam moved on from the goggles and, despite our urging, consistently opted not to wear his goggles. So that was a short-lived solution.
     Maybe we've shown kids that bath-time is too much fun without really implying that there's a purpose to bath-time.  Maybe they just have the wrong impression.  And really, who wouldn't think bath-time was so fun with all of those toys piled up next to the tub? We've got boats, duckies, funny looking washcloths, baskets, splash balls, cups, a swimming crab and even a bath time Hot Wheels race car track.  There's even more on the market- floating sponge islands, sudsy crayons, musical instruments, and more.  So it does kind of come as a surprise when it's time to stop playing and start soaping (and unsoaping).  Don't bother to be rational and suggest, "Why not try the soaping routine before the playing?"  We actually do this most times because we end up in a hurry at bath-time so there's no time for playtime anyway ("It was bed-time 10 minutes ago but you need a bath because this weekend you painted your hair, sat on a lollipop and dug for worms!  Hurry up!").
     A friend of mine had all of her kids showering at a very early age (I'm going to exaggerate and say at 3 years).  What a fabulous idea.  But I just don't see my 5 year old taking the initiative to soap and unsoap without me coaxing him on (that's a nice way of saying "yelling at him").

     Of course, the highlight of every bath time is soap time.  No one seems to mind the actual soaping up.  There's something fun about becoming more slippery.  And soap time is when our favorite bath toy always comes in handy.  The mirror.