There’s just something about bathtime with Evelyne. We do it nightly, it’s part of her bedtime routine. Ev loves her bath, and no matter how fussy she is before she gets in, she’s happy as a lark in the water. Sometimes it’s really tiring to go through all the same motions every. single. night. But at the same time, watching her in the bath always brings-out my sentimental side.
I think part of it is because I just sit on the toilet and watch her. Or I’ll get on the floor next to the tub ledge and play with her. It’s quiet, it’s just us, and it’s a nightly ritual. Something comforting about that. It makes me slow down, and since there’s nothing else to do in the bathroom, I just enjoy watching her. Even if I’m tired and have a headache, there’s something relaxing about watching her play so contentedly.
The other part that gets me is the fact that because it’s a regular thing in her life, I can see in my mind all the hundreds of baths that have gone before tonight and all the ones that will come in the future. I remember bathing her as a tiny baby in the blue infant tub when she would scream the whole time. I remember graduating to the bigger blow-up duck tub once she could sit-up on her own… when she was finally old enough to play with a couple of toys in the water.
When I look at her sitting in the bathtub, I remember what she looked like in that same tub six months ago and how much smaller she was. I imagine what she’ll look like in another six months and what will change about how she takes a bath…how much more hair I’ll have to wash. I imagine another baby sitting next to her in the tub in another year or so. I think of what it will be like to watch five year-old Evelyne taking baths with her younger siblings, and I remember all the pictures we have of my brother and me in the bathtub when we were little. It fees like a rite of passage, bathing your child. We all do it at some point, it’s just one of life’s basic things.
Several times a week I’ll get really sentimental as I sit on the toilet and watch Evelyne play in the bath. I’m struck by how quick a stage this is, that every piece of her beautiful body is growing and changing and can’t remain the same… that in a few more years she probably won’t even want me in there when she bathes. I know that one day when I’m older I’m going to look at my watch and think to myself, “It’s bathtime… I sure wish I had a baby to bathe.”