I have come to realize that mothers don't get time to curl up in a ball and forget that the world exists. My days of wallowing in my problems are long gone. So, I am over my self pity (for now).
Right in the middle of our nighttime routine, I was smacked right in the face with the fact that my life is pretty amazing.
Every night between 6 o'clock and 6:15, I take Grace up to the dining room, where she eats dinner. After her dinner (which I've made myself) and cup of water, we run a slightly warm bath (adding Aveeno oatmeal if she's been especially itchy) and undress her. She wraps her arms around my neck once she's naked so that she can watch the tub fill up.
In the tub, Grace plays with her Princess rubber ducky, worm toys, pitcher, and basket. Her dad and I sit on the floor of the bathroom and play, too. Joe bangs toys together, and Grace takes them from him. I pour water from the bucket into the bath so Grace can try to catch it. We all talk and laugh together until she crawls out of the tub.
Because her skin is so dry, we have to get Grace greased up with Vaseline within three minutes of her leaving the bathwater. Joe pats her dry while I massage her and apply the goo. Then I go to the kitchen to prepare a bottle while Joe dresses Grace and puts her into a blanket sleeper.
Lastly, I sit down in our enormous rocker/recliner with Grace. I feed her the bottle and rock her to sleep. Joe plays the cd that I made, and we sit in the dark, rocking. I usually sit there for a while, even after she's gone to sleep, listening to Baby Mine, What a Wonderful World, Love Me Tender, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and You are My Sunshine. It's peaceful and quiet and wonderful.
If Grace hadn't developed her nasty rash, we wouldn't have this nightly routine. But she did and we do, and I'm glad for it. It's the best part of my entire day.
© 2008 – 2018, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.