I grew up with showers. No bathtubs in the houses I lived. It was too hot to sit in warm water. But last year I fell in love with bathtime. Not with my kid's bath time, that is cute too, but I mean the mommy bath time. Do you ever get that: mommy soaking time? Time to fill the bathtub with lavender bubbles, sprinkled with healing salts, a candle flittering away Enya's voice? And the force within you blocking the to do list from popping up and just focusing in the warmth of the water knowing that outside the wind is fierce but in this mommy sanctuary you are safe and in peace?
Apparently I am not the only one around here falling in love with bath time. Luke decided that if it was up to him he would take 3 baths a day. And the bubbles, he just loves them, to the point of pouring half of the bubble mix, without me noticing, inside an already bubbly bathtub. Last week there he was, a few minutes after I got him dressed up to go to school, naked in the bathroom ready for a bath.
And as things go, Mark is following his brother's steps running to the bathroom as soon as he hears the water running. He does not mind either when Luke pours water over his head. It seems as the bubbles are magically pulling all of us inside its slippery walls.