Bath Time Extravaganza

"I need a minute. Please just give me a minute," I said as tried to take a deep breath. The three of us were squished onto one chair, as we often are. Josiah in my lap, hiccuping as he gulped down his formula, and Layna squeezed in on my right with her hands full of a snack cup and five books.

"Please read this, Mama?" She requested.

Another deep breath.

"Just give me a minute," I repeated.

Josiah was hiccuping because he was absolutely screaming only seconds before. He got to that point where he was gag screaming. *Gag, scream, gag, scream* But I should back up, because it started a while before that.

I was giving both of the kids a bath and decided to be generous with their tub time since we had started the evening routine a little early. They both love bath time so this seemed to be appreciated. Though, it seems Josiah had a funny way of showing it.

As I was gathering towels and preparing to get them out, I noticed Josiah was in an awkward position in the tub - sort of leaned forward with a funny expression on his face.

No. You are not. 

Yes. He was. I slowly peeked into the tub to confirm my fear; he had indeed pooped in the tub.

Remain calm! I told myself. The last thing I needed was for Layna to freak out in addition to having this mess to clean up.

"Uh oh, Josiah pooped," I said in a tone that did not match my emotions on the issue. "Time to hop out."

Layna complied easily (a saving grace in this process), and of course, Josiah was completely oblivious to the fact that this presented an issue. I whisked them both out, and released the plug on the drain while I got them into pajamas. I instructed them to remain in Josiah's room across the hall from the clogged tub. I started by removing the offended toys, and... actually, I won't take you through step-by-step, but I will say that there were rubber gloves and a good amount of Clorox involved.

Josiah and Layna ventured into the bathroom more than one time during my cleanup, so in the middle of bending over the tub I would periodically have to stop and chastise them for entering. At one point, Josiah grabbed the Clorox, I sternly told him "no", and he brought out his pouting lip and whimper. Well, the whimpers turned into full blown screams, but with Clorox-gloved hands and hot water running in multiple places, there wasn't a lot to be done about it.

When I finally finished my task, I picked up Josiah who was in his *gag, scream, gag, scream* at this point. Layna was thinking she'd been patient enough and was at my heels about reading and her raisins (her routine bedtime snack). I rushed around the kitchen for raisins and a bottle (after nine months nursing Josiah, I'm still so grateful he transitioned to a bottle without issue).

And that's how we landed in the too-small-for-three chair. I collected myself, Josiah's breathing eased and his eyes got sleepy, and Layna sat eagerly with her eyes on the Berenstain Bears. It seemed we were back on track for the evening. All was well again, and so I began... "The Berenstain Bears Count Their Blessings..."