Ivy is terrified of the bath.
That rubber tub?
That's where she bathes, presently.
"Taking a leaf from the Philippines' book" is what Haki calls it.
And why not? The weather is warmer...
...and did I mention the terror?
And this tub lacks a drain.
And Ivy cannot fathom how a large body of water can fit through such a small hole, yet her person and all manner of toys are safe from such a fate.
No illustration of her safety has proven helpful.
And for two (excruciating baths), I attempted to calmly demonstrate (force-teach?) that all is well, and the bath is still a place for joy. Fail.
I thought about how Haki would feel if I attempted to cure him of arachnophobia by covering him in spiders.
For Ivy, this is a very real fear.
And one that will most certainly (soon) pass naturally with her development. (Soon, right?)
I chose to treat her with the same respect and dignity I would an adult, with very real fears.
And giving children respect and dignity, is something that has cropped up in our parental unit discussions, of late.
We think all ages deserve it. Even if we are in charge. In charge meaning they are our charges, and for me, that means taking care.
That's a huge part of why I use pseudonyms on the blog...
...and why what most likely will be the funniest stories, post-5(ish?), will have tough censors.
I know many (okay, most) of my friends and family would have just pushed through with the normal bath routine.
I don't mind if that's your style.
But I can tell you, that I do not dread bathtime, because of this call.
In fact, Esky and Ivy both think the new bath routine is quite a lark.
And about the time the novelty wears off, I am hopeful Ivy will be ready for a return to the norm.
We shall see.
But for now, I can still do baths (sans screams, white faces, and visible agony of spirit)
...I just had to find a new way.
So, have any of your children become horrified of bathtime, overnight? (Ivy used to love bathtime, ever since she stopped showering once she could sit with Esky...until just two weeks ago, like a switch had been flicked.) Or have you known someone with an irrational fear it seemed cruel to "push through?" Or that pushing through, cured? And what are your thoughts on respect and dignity for what seems real to a little one?
And NB: In response to the FAQs cropping up in my inbox, I'm sure not perfect. I've fed my kids cereal for dinner more than once when the day was too long (#pregnancy'lldothat), but I try, and I try hard...and when I feel the greatest joy, I record.