The Power of a Shower

Dashle loves to take showers. He knows the specific sound of the water running out of the bathtub faucet and shortly after converting into wet beads cascading down from high above. He knows the sound as well as a garage door opening or a lawn mower clipping grass outside. As soon as that sweet sound hits his ears he is crawling up the stairs nearly sniffing out the details of the shower. Which bathroom is it? Who is taking the shower? Why wasn't I invited? He is like a hawk circling in the air above it's prey before the attack. He roams patiently near the door where he is certain a shower is taking place. He waits and watches and soon he knows someone else will come to the bathroom door and enter. It almost always happens. He depends on predictability. Besides our family wouldn't be our family if there wasn't some sort of audience when one of us is taking care of hygiene obligations. And when that door to said bathroom opens he bolts for the shower curtain. In one swift movement he pushes the curtain aside and implores the assistance of the shower taker to remove his clothing, pull him over the edge of the tub, and allow him to shower in sweet, HOT, serenity. He doesn't need his hair washed or his body scrubbed. These are not the issues which drive him. He simply wants to sit on the floor of the tub and let the water drizzle down his face, over his shoulders, and roll down his chubby little belly. If he is denied his request to enter the steamy facility he becomes inconsolably upset and demands to know in gibberish why his desire has been refused. From my experience, it is very hard to stand firm and deny this little cherub the greatest dream of all his dreams.


This morning I encountered no exception to his obsession. After breakfast, a bit sticky with three or four cheerios still attached to the back of his legs, he became frustrated with his Addie over some toy he decided he wanted and she possessed. In my big belly state of exhaustion I was quickly inspired to offer him the luxury of a shower with his larger than life mama. The mention of the most sacred word in his vocabulary (aside from "Daddy") was all it took to stop the tantrum and get him up the stairs. There was little time to act as I mistakenly turned the water on before removing his pajamas and diaper. He started to get flustered again for in his mind it didn't matter that he was not down to his skins. He was getting in! Once he was stripped and plopped over the side onto the floor of the shower he was all smiles and I could almost hear him through his facial expression as if to say a quiet "aaaahhhh."

He is a lover of a long, hot, steamy shower just like his mom. Something which makes me love him more. While he relaxed and let the water gently pelt his soft baby fat I realized with my own head being drenched how such a moment with my baby boy was not going to happen much longer. In a few short weeks he will be promptly laid off from his current position as youngest and most adored. He will then be offered a different position, (one which is not nearly as lucrative) as big brother and join the ranks of his older sisters whereon expectations shall be increased and his parents will plea with him to forget his age and start acting like a big boy. It is a sad thought for me. Although we do not intentionally demand our children to act older especially as they are only approaching ages such as 2 it happens when a new baby enters the picture.




And so, as I stood in the shower this morning with my baby boy happily playing on the tub floor with shampoo bottles and facial cleanser I started to miss his babyhood and desperately hoped for the possibility of seeing him the same way I see him now even after his brother arrives. I still want to be smitten with him and adore him immensely and continually feel amazed at his progression and laugh uncontrollably at his silliness and all the cute little things he does day in and day out (regardless if anyone else in the world thinks those things are as charming as I do). With such sudden and intense feelings I picked him up and held him close under the shower head and savored in being skin to skin with him. His lashes were dark and full under the burden of the water falling over his eyes. His hair was matted to his perfectly round head and he held a cute little grin on his face as I kissed his rosy little cheeks and poked at his nose and nuzzled my face into his neck. It isn't easy to hold a 25 pounder these days on top of a very protruding belly, but the discomfort was laid aside for those few precious moments to enjoy my boy who without appropriate warning will soon be catapulted (abruptly) into manhood.