OLD HABITS DIE HARD
Our old house with the now missing maple trees was our very first house as a married couple. It was 1990, the housing market was at its peek, mortgage rates high, as I mentioned I was pregnant with LLB. The love of my immediate life and I looked at the house, which was a private sale and just knew it was THE one, 4 level side split, large fenced yard. Room to grow - the only downside - only one bathroom, ok the closets were very small as well. It was March when we saw it, my love was soon to be heading to Vegas with the boys, he was also a little hung over. He liked the house, but perhaps he was quick to say yes so he could go home and sleep hahah!
Again as I had mentioned dear imaginary reader, we moved in Friday and LLB was born Monday. Our son was not quite two, excited to have a little sister yet fearful of a bigger bedroom. So, twenty eight years ago the habit of putting the kids to bed and then having a bath was born.
The top floor of our little house was home to three bedrooms, a linen closet and the bathroom. Said bathroom was directly across the hall from LLB’s room, and just 6 or so steps from the boy’s room. As his teeth were brushed before bed my bath water would be running, proof that I would be there in that oh so lovely blue and pink bathroom. Ah yes...dark blue and pink. After story time, putting the baby downstairs with the love of my life, I would double check our son then head to the bathtub. A good book in hand, I would dip into the not so deep tub and attempt to read while keeping an ear open for both kids. The boy could wander and the baby cry needing me even though she was with her Dad.
Almost three years later along came baby girl - our controller. Our son and LLB shared a room for a while as baby girl yelled and screamed pulling me out of the nightly bath or up to grab her so she could sleep with my love and I, all in the name of not being so upset. The love of my immediate life tried to break me of the habit of getting her when ever she threw a fit. If I waited Miss Controller would then vomit - I swear - all just to get her own way. I went away for a weekend with friends, and somehow, I don’t want to know how, my love broke her of this habit.
Eventually the girls shared a room, the boy enjoying his own space - nightly baths were a calm thing. I was close - I could come to whom ever needed me or they would come and sit and chat about all or nothing. This went on for 12 years. It was time, we had more than out grown the one bathroom, which was now a lovely marble (thank you Reno gods!).
As is often the case when you move, the parents space is the last to get a facelift. We finally had a master bathroom - it had plenty of space for a tub but alas, the space was empty. Nightly baths close to the kids continued with me in the tub in the kids bathroom, a book in my hand always ready to have a chat or try to settle things down. Eventually it came time to make an addition to our master bath.
The love of my immediate life and his buddy HB did some great work and created a spa like space for, me its soft and calming, still close to the kids. They gave thought to everything -
This is the view from my bathtub. Its a deep soaker with elbow rests. They didnt get me a tub with jets - they knew that part of the nightly bath ritual often involves chatting with the kids. My Reno guys knew that as the kids got older, talks would get more serious, so they made sure there was a wide edge for my wine glass to rest.
We have been in this house 17 years, the nightly bath habit is still a thing. Now when I soak I can have candles lit and the room dark as I use my new birthday kindle to read. There is perhaps more red wine in the glass....I often look up through this window and will catch a peek at a bird gliding along, or a squirrel bounding along the opposite ridge of the roof. More often than not I will look up into a dark starry night and think of my kids, their problems, their achievements, the future. On amazing nights I will hear an unexpected “MA! Where are you?”, I reply “in the bath!” I get to hear feet running up the stairs, if its our boy he will stand just inside our bedroom and will chat through the door. If its the girls, they will come right on in and chat just like it has always been. On occasion, they will bring a bottle of wine, make themselves comfy and we will solve the problems of the world.
Old habits do die hard my dear imaginary reader - but I pray that this one never ends.
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