Anatomy of a Bath--When the Children Are About

I ran my very first race today.

It was a 10K.

I am pretty stoked about the whole thing.

But more on that later.

After the race, there were 2 baseball games to watch, a house to tidy up, lunches to make, a baby to put down for a nap, and race pictures to look for online.

My legs, and especially knees, were sore, sore, sore!

The new Sunset magazine had just arrived in the mail.

Davy was asleep.

The big kids were all happily playing amongst themselves.

It seemed like the perfect time for a bath.

I love baths.
Don't you?
My mom passed on some wonderful things to my siblings and I.
Because of her, we are all readers.
We all cook and love good, real  food. (Except that my sister has been known to eat Hamburger Helper and like it.  We don't know what that is about)
She also passed on the appreciation of a good soak in the tub.
Growing up, I can remember her reading in the tub.
As soon as I could read in the tub, I did too.
My younger brother used to do his homework in the tub.
And for the 8 years that Aaron and I lived in our 100 year old beach bungalow, we only too baths.
Our house was so old it didn't have a shower.
That was best bathtub ever.
It was so big that when my 3 year old nephew came over the first time he said, "wow!  You have a pool in your bathroom!"
I loved soaking for a long time in that tub every day.

But I don't take baths very often anymore.
Especially not in the middle of the afternoon.
But today was a special occasion.
I made myself a cup of tea, got my magazine, told the big kids I'd be in the tub, and to be quiet because if they woke up their baby brother they'd be dead meat.
And then I went in to have a bath.

Here's what happened.
I pull back the shower curtain.
I immediately wish I had cleaned the tub the day before when I cleaned the rest of the bathroom.
Lesson learned on doing only half the job.
I pour my bath, step in, and sink into the hotness.
As soon as I am submerged, David wakes up.
I get out.
I dry off.
I sit on the couch, in a towel, and hold David for 10 minutes, because he always wants to be cuddled after he wakes up from his nap.
He finally feels like getting down, and runs off to play.
I get back in the tub.
My tea is cold.
My bath is cold.
I run more hot water to warm it up, and think, "forget about the tea."
David comes in and says, "bath, bath, bath, bath, bath, bath, bath," at least 20 times, and tries to get in the tub.
I finally get him to leave by telling him he can play with his bath toys in his bedroom.
Lilly walks in. 
"I want a girl Lego head but James has the only one, and he won't give it to me."
James yells from the living room, "Moooooom, she has more girl heads in her Lego box, she just doesn't want to go out to the Lego studio to get them.  And I already made this Lego girl for the set I am building."
Me to Lilly, "go outside to the Lego studio and find a girl head from your box."
Lilly walks out.
William walks in, "Mom, do you know where the instructions are for my new Lego set?"
Me, "I don't know.  Where did you use them last?"
William, "oh yeah...I think they're on the kitchen table."
William walks out.
Davy walks in with a box of graham crackers.
He hands me the box and says, "ma?"
I open the box, give him a cracker, give him the box, and tell him to put it back in the kitchen.
Davy walks out.
William walks back in.
"I found it, Mom.  I have to pee."
William pees.
William washes his hands and leaves.
James walks in. 
"Hey Mom, where's Dad?"
Me, "at the gym.  What do you need?"
James, "it's just that I want to build a really huge Lego set, but I want to build it with Dad.  And I don't know where all the pieces are that I need."
Me, "well, if you guys would just put the pieces back where they belong instead of leaving them all over the ground, you might be able to find them more easily.  But I'll help you look for them when I get done with my bath."
James walks out.
Lilly walks in.
"Mom, can I have an egg?"
Me, "after I get out of the tub."
Lilly walks out.
I pick up my magazine and read the advertisement on the first page.
David screams.
I yell, "what's wrong with David?"
James yells back, "he just wants the Lego pieces that are too small for him to have."
I scan the table of contents.
David walks in.
He throws his boat into the bath, which splashes my magazine and my glasses.
I say, "no David!  This is Mommy's bath!"
He walks out.
I take off my glasses, put down my magazine, and get out of the tub.
And that is why I don't take baths in the middle of the day.

Hope your Sunday is more relaxing than my bath was!
Love from,
Greta

PS. And in case you want to comment about all the things I could do to make sure I don't have so many interruptions, I'll just answer them for you ahead of time.
1. Yes, they could have watched something on tv, but they had already reached their weekend tv viewing limit and I am trying very hard to stick to the limits we created.
2. Yes, I could lock the door, but they would still come to the door and ask me stuff in loud voices.  Also, I don't like being in the bath with the door locked when David is awake.  I feel like I am at least kind of keeping an eye on him if he can wander in and out of the bathroom. I know, slacker mom.
3.  Yes, I could say, "don't come in here unless there is fire, blood, or poop."
But then someone would have to come in and poop and that is a total bummer when I am trying to take a bath.
4.  Yes, I can accept that this the stage of motherhood I am in right now, and I can laugh about it, and write it down so I will remember it many years later when my kids are not coming in to have discussions with me about Legos as I lay in the tub, drinking a cup of cold tea, and trying to read a magazine.