It’s 8 Am and I’m proud of myself. I fed Little man his breakfast, gave him a bath, which is usually a 30 minute process of playing with toys, convincing him to let me wash his hair, and constant reminders that water stays in the tub. Little man out. Towel dry hair. Blow dry hair. Put lotion on. Find clothes that somewhat go together. Put said clothes on while Little throws his body on the floor in protest. It takes a while, but we’re done. Socks on. Shoes on socks. We’re ready to go. Feeling pretty good.
I run to the kitchen to grab a banana. I hear shuffling in the bedroom. I run back. Little has his tiny chair pushed up against the chest of drawers, with a big smile on his face. He has a huge glob of baby Vicks vapor rub smeared all over his head. Holy Magnolia. There’s no way this is coming out with a paper towel. I frantically text friends asking how the heck one would remove something with such surprisingly adhesive-like qualities. I’m going with lemon juice. Clothes off, back in the bath. More protests, ‘mommy nooooooo! No, mommy!’ The best part about this particular bath is that I get to wash his hair three times! And as a bonus, add lemon juice! Little man out. Towel dry hair. Blow dry hair. His hair is especially shiny, glistening even. Clothes, socks, shoes. We’re done. Finally. Second bath was just a minor set back, I keep telling myself. No harm done.
I run to the kitchen for the banana I never quite made it to. More shuffling in the bedroom. I run back. Little has a huge smile on his face once again. This time he has a handful of lotion from bath number one rubbed onto his head. As I silently recite my favorite curse words, I look at him. I look at the lotion. And as we head to the kitchen together for that darn banana, I decide that the lotion can stay. It’s organic. And really, it’s good for him. In fact, how thoughtful am I for allowing him to nourish his scalp like this?
Friends, go with whatever works to get yourself through the day.