Just a Bath

Let me set the scene. I am trying to get ready to go to Finley's gymnastics class. I have an hour and fifteen minutes. All I have to do is take a bath, including a quick leg shave and wash my hair. Simple right? Wrong. Very wrong!

I start my bath water in the kids bathroom because it's the cleanest at the moment. I run and get my shampoo, conditioner, razor, and face soap from my bathroom all the while keeping the door closed to the running water so there won't be a drowning this morning. I go to the garage, get the supersaucer to put Campbell in during my bath. After all, you cannot let a nine month old crawl through the house while bathing. Bath water is full. I run to get CG (Campbell Grace) and realize she has pooped. I run to get a diaper and a new box of wipes out of the garage because they are empty. Lay CG on the bed to change her and poop is all up her back to her shoulder blades and it goes through the pjs onto the bed. Make mental note to self to wash those sheets since my mom is coming and will sleep in the now poop sheets bed. I then peel off the chunky poop ridden pjs, wipe her clean, and take the pjs to the sink to scoop all the poop off- I then decide I'll scoop later when I feel like barfing and when I have more time. I then take the poop diaper and put it outdoors in the outside garbage can. CG goes into the saucer right beside the tub and I jump in for a quick bath. Finley by then comes to join the bath like she always does. She stands beside the tub and dips a cup of water into the bath and pours it on my head, legs, back, etc. CG is starting to cry and I realize it's time for her morning bottle. Didn't think of that till I'm already submersed-she'll have to wait. She continues to wail and fuss the ENTIRE time I'm bathing. I lather up my legs-before I can shave my calves, Finley has rinsed off my shaving cream. Please don't I ask her. Lather up again. Shave really quickly. I cut my left knee-ouch. It's bleeding like all good razor cuts do. I have chill bumps bc Finley has left the door open so I shave over them and it gives me razor burn. Damn, I hate these razors Kyle bought. They cut up my legs, but now I will have to continue to use them bc they came from Sam's and we have 200 of them. CG still crying. Finley's pj shirt is now sopping wet up to her shoulder since she was dipping in the water. I pry those wet clothes and diaper off of her and put her in the tub with me. She's all soaped up and good to go. I'm ready to get out and realized I need to wash the conditioner out of my hair. From the looks of the water, I think I'll stand and use the shower seeing that there is leg hair and blood from my crappy razor cut. I turn on the shower and it blasts cold out on Finley and I. She screams. CG is screaming more bc we have pulled the shower curtain and she can't see us. Water gets warm and we are finished. I jump out and look for the baby oil to help with my razor burned legs. No oil-I must have taken it to the other bathroom. Dry off me, Finley and grab CG. I run into the kitchen holding CG and warm her bottle. She has stopped screaming. She is just staring at the towel I've wrapped around my head like I'm going to pull out my flute and charm a cobra out of a pot. Finley is running around saying she's cold. Lay CG down and make her hold her own bottle. Dress Finley. Dry my hair. Put on make-up. Dress CG-now realizing I probably should have bathed her as well since there was poop up her back, but no time now. I get dressed. Pack CG's diaper bag. Fix Finley a drink. Work on my hair-I'm sweating at this point. I realize I'm out of deodorant so I use Kyle's. I smell very manly-thank you, Old Spice. I'll mask that manly smell with a little perfume. Now I smell like manly flowers. Get dressed, grab my watch, load the girls. Grab my purse, phone, run back and unplug my curling iron. Finley has no shoes. Back in the house, grab shoes and her diaper bag. I'm in the car with ten minutes to spare. I stop at Sonic for a well deserved diet Dr. Pepper. No, I had nothing to spike it with. Ladies don't drink in the morning.

Like they say, Motherhood-it ain't for sissy's. And I love every minute of it-well, maybe not the poop up the back.