Bubble-iferous

 For the second day out of three, I was tasked with bathtime without partner. This is usually a once-a-week occurrence, and I enjoy it as a special time when bath and bed can go completely as I interpret the pacing of the children. Today, however, I had just come home from a daylong workshop and driving there and back on poor road conditions after a fresh snowfall. I needed something to break the regular routines of griping and fussing. Most of bath is a wonderful treat in which both kids enjoy exploring water, their own bodies, and various bath toys. There are a few transitions that deviate from this happy experience. My daughter is highly sensitive to water or soap on her nose. This is to the point of freaking out the other day when she was already tired.

So I grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from the table between the washer and dryer. We have never, to my knowledge, used bubble bath before. It was in a bunch of Earth’s Best supplies that came from buying copious amounts of their diapers. 

I put in the bubbles, and my son was the first one in. He sat amidst the white foam looking perplexed. Eventually he started to fuss at the bubbles and finally a smile spread across his face. I was less concerned with how he would react than my daughter who had been playing with her uncle, aunt, and grandfather and whose routines had been fairly disrupted over the last few days. Her 3.5 year-old need for predictability would either melt down at this new element of bath time, or she would love it. Thank goodness she loved it!

“I love bubbles,” was the first thing she said as she entered the room. She even wanted to get straight in before sitting on the toilet. I vetoed that idea, but she was soon playing amidst the fluffy foam.

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