Sundays...

One of my favorite times of the night is when Beau and I change Cruz’s diaper together. I know it won’t always be a two person job, but I think deep down we tend to congregate around the changing table as a sort of family bonding time. At first, Cruz hated anything having to do with his changing table; this meant he was minutes away from having his pants off, his privates exposed, and well, as I said, my son is modest. But lately, our little CB falls into a magical little trance when he’s on his changing table. He lazily lounges on his chamois changing cover and Beau and I talk about him…

Sometimes we get emotional, hug and stare in amazement at the little person we created. We marvel at our astounding parenting skills, the fact that we’ve managed to keep him content, safe, and fed for the last two weeks. Sometimes we laugh hysterically at him and the many faces he makes…his half-asleep face, his Grandpa Ray scowl, his sleepy smile, and his 'Professor Watson' scholar face. We make fun of his smelly umbilical cord, put him face to face with the many stuffed animals that adorn his room, and sing the, “He’s a Maniac” song as he kicks his little chicken legs and moves his arms up above his head. Other times, we talk about who he will become and what we hope for his life. He’s only two weeks old and we’ve already begun to see snapshots of a personality unfolding…

This week, Cruz is two weeks old. Although a part of me feels like we just brought him home yesterday, a bigger part of me can’t stand the thought of him getting older and bigger. I stare at him sometimes, weave my finger in his tiny little hand, or push my cheek up to his, and get a deep lump in my throat thinking about how fast time goes. I know life is only going to get better and better with him, but a part of me wants to get all Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye, stick Cruz in a glass case and protect him from the world around him. My momma bear instinct is much stronger than I imagined…

Sundays have taken on a whole new meaning since being home with Cruz. During the school year, I often loathe Sunday nights, nights full of grading, lesson planning, and kissing the short weekend goodbye. Tonight, I put on my favorite pair of pre-pregnancy sweatpants, a thick pair of socks, and curled up with my baby on the couch. Dressed in nothing but a diaper and blue and white striped onesie, he laid on my chest, arms up by his face, cheek pressed close up to mine, butt elevated in the air. Two weeks ago, we watched Boardwalk Empire with a baby in my belly; tonight, I have one sleeping on my chest. I told Beau that the only thing that could make this night better was a carpet picnic and a roaring fire. Pretty soon, it will be twinkling lights on a Christmas tree, a pile of blankets on the living room floor, and a baby sleeping in between a pair of proud parents. As the days get shorter and the wind grows colder, I begin to anticipate cozy nights at home with two of my favorite men.

This week, as the visitors begin to wind down, I look forward to relishing in all that is maternity leave. Today we are off to a good start. A morning nap, a cute sleeper, and some successful tummy time. Beau came home for lunch and put his little hot box to sleep. We are spoiled with a baby who loves to snuggle. The more blankets, the softer and sounder he sleeps. Right now, he’s on my chest, snoring like his dad. A snore that hums a ‘life is good,’ tune with every breath.

Life is good.

All that is Fall

Today, after snuggling with Cruz for two hours in the recliner, I decided it was time to get out of the house for awhile. I pulled the baby wheels out of the trunk of the car, wrapped Cruz up in a sand colored knitted blanket, and strolled down the sidewalks of our neighborhood. We’re nearing the end of one of the prettiest Octobers in my memory and I was determined to give Cruz the opportunity to get a taste of it before it gets too cold.

Somewhere between giving birth, bringing home a baby, and getting used to this new thing called parenthood, I failed to notice just how pretty our neighborhood was. On our street alone, there was a tree dressed in every shade of fall. Crisp orange, burnt red, golden brown, and lime green covered the sidewalks and crunched under the wheels of the stroller, creating a perfect melody to lull Cruz to sleep. Every now and then, when I stopped to snap a picture of a leaf or a tree, I found myself caught under a rain storm of falling leaves. By the time we reached our driveway, Cruz was perfectly decorated in maple, oak, ash, and birch. He didn’t seem to mind a bit.

It’s been a fall to remember. What began with a belly the size of a pumpkin and cravings for pumpkin spice cappuccino, comfort food, and a Honeycrisp-apple-a-day, has transformed to late night lullabies, footed sleepers, and afternoon naps with a swaddled baby on my chest. Our little hot box has warmed our lives in ways we couldn’t even comprehend…he’s transformed our little family and made our cozy little nest complete.

Call me bath lady...

Parenthood is full of surprises, new experiences, lots of change, and most of all, a helluva lot of laughter. 

Since Cruz has been home, I've been waiting on pins and needles to give him his first legit bath.  For the first week, we were instructed to give sponge baths, which although fun, are nothing compared to a cute little whale-shaped tub, warm sudsy water, soft washcloths, and a naked baby.  I have enough Johnson's & Johnson's products to last until our next child is born, and have a zoo of Pottery Barn critter hooded towels folded and ready to go.  A bath before bed, followed by a baby lotion massage, and a cozy blanket cuddle was exactly what I had planned for a peaceful Thursday night.

Or so I thought.

Cruz's first bath experience at home was sheer chaos.  It took us a few tries to get the water at the perfect temperature, Cruz immediately started screaming the minute we stripped him naked, Beau spent the entire time worried Cruz was about to pee on us, and because we failed to screw the legs onto the back of the tub, it kept sliding further and further down the sink, taking Cruz with it each time.  Cruz was crying hysterically.  I'm talking hyperventilating, mouth wide-open, arms and legs desperately kicking, trying to escape the sheer terror of getting his hair washed.  Pretty soon, our new parent nerves turned into laughter, and while Cruz screamed through his first bath, his mommy and daddy snapped pictures and laughed hysterically.  It seems we've been doing a lot of that lately.

After the torture of lotion and pajama time, Beau wrapped his little one up head to toe in blankets and consoled him on the couch.  Every time I walked by, Beau would refer to me as the mean bath lady, holding up Cruz's hand to curse me as I walked by.  He's already trying to plot against me (little does he know that I still have the "milk" advantage).  That night, Cruz slept for five hours straight, the longest he's went without milk since he was born!   

  

Now, every time I feed him, we laugh at the one eye he keeps open at me, skeptically wondering if he's in for another experience with 'bath lady.' 

Yesterday morning, as Beau and I were tag-teaming another diaper change before church, we noticed a funk coming from our little man's belly.  We discovered that his umbilical cord, which was hanging by nothing but a string of dead skin, REEKED!  Although Cruz didn't seem to mind, his father and I were gagging!  The rest of the afternoon, Beau covered his belly with an extra blanket and referred to our son as 'the smelly one.'  After some research, I discovered that I was maybe a little too anxious to give Cruz his first, unwelcomed, bath...as it turns out, his cord isn't exactly supposed to be wet!

Luckily, Cruz only had to deal with being pegged the smelly kid for a day.  During a late night diaper change, I was greeted with a precious little belly button!  No more disgusting umbilical cord...Halleluiah!

Tonight is another bath night.  Let's hope little Cruz enjoys this one a little more.  He either hates being cold, or is proving to be a lot more modest than his parents.  In college, Beau was known for being quite comfortable in his skin, and it turns out, my favorite place to breast feed is directly in front of our picture window.  I think the labor and delivery floor does that to you.

Musings of a New Momma...

Sometimes I stare at my baby and can’t believe he is mine. This happens especially at night as I watch him sleep. I love watching him sleep. Watching his little chest rise and fall with every little baby breath he takes. The way he snuggles in as close as he can and finds just the right position against me. The little sucks of air he takes as he swallows, and the deep breath he takes when he’s decided he’s finished eating. These little moments we have together are the purest form of love I’ve ever felt in my life.

We’ve had a good first week at home. Cruz is a good baby, and has already begun to fall into a schedule with feedings, making it easier for mommy to get some sleep. The last two nights, he’s woken up about every three to four hours to eat. It’s so funny how the little things, like taking a shower, throwing in a load of laundry, or making lunch, have now become my significant accomplishments of each day. Today was the first morning Beau would not be at home when I showered. I stewed and stewed about this last night, worried I wouldn’t have time to take a shower before one of my colleagues stopped by in the morning. I talked strategy with Mom, attempted to plan Cruz’s feedings around this, and made sure Beau taught me how to work our baby monitor. At 7 o’clock this morning, as Beau got ready for work, I watched The Today Show and fed a hungry Cruz. Three and a half hours later, I had showered, done my makeup, taken out the trash, made the bed, picked up the house, and soaked a load of baby clothes, all while my little man took a morning nap in his crib. Three weeks ago, that would have been an easy morning’s feat. Today, I felt like Superwoman (who desperately needed a nap).

Every day, it seems Cruz is picking up on more and more of the world around him, becoming more alert, spending more time looking around, and more time listening to the sounds around him. This morning, he listened to his Grandma Kelly talk to him for about an hour. This afternoon, he sat in his boppy pillow and I talked to him about his first week at home.  He spends a good chunk of every afternoon either chilling in his bouncy seat, or lounging in his boppy, just taking in his surroundings.  I don't know if he can quite make out our faces yet, but he's getting close.   

A couple nights ago, I discovered Cruz’s secret sleeping weapon…a Halo swaddle blanket, aka, baby straight jacket. Cruz is one happy baby when he is toasty warm (probably one of the reasons he despises having his diaper changed), and the tighter he is swaddled, the longer he sleeps.  Although he loves being wrapped up tight at night, he loves sleeping with both arms up by his face during the day. Beau says he’s working on his antlers. He also loves sleeping in his crib; besides our bed or someone’s arms, it’s his favorite place to sleep. I love peeking in his room while he’s sleeping, I sometimes wish I could climb in there and snuggle up next to him! It looks so cozy!

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when it seems Cruz and I are the only two people up in a sleeping world, I curl up with him in his room, put on one of the lullaby CDs I made before he was born, and rock him extra long. One song, Lullaby, by the Dixie Chicks always leaves me in tears. It speaks of the love and protectiveness I already feel for my baby.  Beau likes it too, and I often catch glimpses of him singing it to Cruz from the other room. 

Lullaby

They didn't have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

I slip in bed when you're asleep
To hold you close and feel your breath on me
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do
So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

As you wander through this troubled world
In search of all things beautiful
You can close your eyes when you're miles away
And hear my voice like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

Looking forward to a weekend at home with Cruz.  I'm seeing a morning of PJs, cozy blankets, and snuggling in my future...

Happy weekend!

Cruz's Newborn Pictures

Well, Darcy did it again.  She not only managed to capture some great pictures at Cruz's newborn session last Monday, but more importantly, captured the quiet love and emotion that seemed to be in abundance at our house that morning. 

Just two months ago, Beau and I playfully strolled up and down Main Street in Cedar Falls as Darcy, owner of At Play Photo, captured life at 35 weeks pregnant.  Although Beau is not a fan of pictures (sorry for him), it was a special experience between the two of us, a chance to really soak in the blessing that awaited in my belly.

Now, Monday morning, Darcy packed her camera bag and came to our house.  This time, she was greeted by a new mom, a new dad, and a brand new baby.  At just six days old, Cruz rocked his photo shoot.  I planned to feed him right before Darcy came to ensure he would be fast asleep and easy to pose for pictures.  Up until that morning, Cruz would easily fall into a food coma minutes after feeding him; however, he had other plans for Monday morning.  I finished feeding him, looked down, and was greeted by a wide eyed little boy.  I immediately grew nervous and envisioned a fussy baby and a picture re-schedule.  Little did I know that Cruz is already showing us that he doesn't like to miss out on things.

The morning was fun and so relaxed...the perfect way to document the first days at home as a family.  Wide awake for the first half, Cruz lazily stared out the window and sometimes, directly into the camera.  We changed and unchanged him, swaddled and un-swaddled him, rolled him from his tummy, to his back, and to his side, and tortured him with his pacifier all morning, pulling it in and out, in and out, between picture poses.  Then, after a quick diaper change, Beau put him to sleep and we played with him some more.  Darcy was amazing with him!  I can't wait to see what she has in store for his three month session!

Here's the link to check out a sneak peek of Cruz's shoot.  Lots more to come!

It all started at Bourbon Street...

Beau and I have quite a history at Bourbon Street, the pretty little Creole style restaurant on Main Street in Cedar Falls. It was the place of our very first date, the place we shared conversation that seemed to flow like a good bottle of wine, and the place where we both realized we wanted to spend more time together. Bourbon Street was also the place we got engaged, the place where Beau sat, nervously brushing his finger across the velvet ring box in his pocket, the place where I obliviously sat unaware of where the remainder of the night would take us. We don’t eat at Bourbon Street very often, but it has become a sort of sacred place for us as a couple.

I had no idea that when I suggested Bourbon Street as my craving of choice last Monday night, that it would again define a special place for our relationship and journey together. It was supposed to be a sort of ‘Last Supper’ for us, just two days away from my scheduled induction, aka, the last possible day I would have to wait to meet the baby I had been carrying for so long. I was hungry for chicken parmesan and looking forward to one last special date night with Beau before becoming parents.

It was this very place, in fact, the very booth we sat in the night we got engaged, that I also experienced my first labor contraction. Beau could tell something was off by the look on my face. It felt so different than any other ache, pain, or Braxton Hicks contraction I held felt the last few weeks, and it made me a little nervous. So nervous, it completely wiped my appetite. We ended up leaving after an appetizer, glass of wine, and glass of Sprite. Excited and overwhelmed, we hurried to the car, hurried home, and waited.

By the end of the night, much to our disappointment, the contractions had stopped. We watched an episode of Boardwalk Empire, I assured Beau that this baby would wait until he was forced to come out, and we went to bed. A part of me was overridden with disappointment, a part of me was overwhelmed with relief. Was I truly ready for this? How do I know when it is time? Can I do this? These questions raced through my mind as I curled up in my bed Monday night.

3:30 am. The time it finally registered to my half-asleep self that I was having contractions once again; however, far more defined than at dinner. I knew without a doubt they were indeed contractions and decided to start timing them. I also decided to wake up my sleeping husband, to simply give him the ‘heads-up.’ He took the ‘heads-up’ similar to a soon-to-be father in the movies. He jumped out of bed, paced the house, threw cell phone chargers, laptop chargers, and cribbage boards into bags, and packed my hospital bag in the car before I even had the time to get out of the shower. My contractions started about seven minutes apart; within a half hour, they were four minutes apart, then three minutes. Although they were more uncomfortable than painful, my impatient husband insisted I call the hospital and insisted we go in as soon as possible. I showered, put on my makeup, did my hair, and snuck one last baby blanket in my hospital bag before saying goodbye to Jade and shutting the door of one more chapter of our life together.

As I look back on the day of October 12, just one week ago, it’s amazing to me to see the magnitude of the miracle that was at work. As nervous and unsure as I was, the minute we walked through those hospital doors, I was overwhelmed with a sense of faith and trust. God was working behind the scenes in so many ways that day, watching over the three of us and providing just what we needed to make the day perfect in its own way.

The first person to greet us on the third floor of the RWH Clinic for Women at Covenant was Amy, a nurse I had met at one of my last prenatal appointments. She instantly made me feel comfortable, answering questions, calming some nerves, and treating me as a friend instead of patient. Beau told me that as he watched the two of us interact, it seemed as though we had known each other for some time. Amy S…Godsend Number One.

After changing into my hot hospital gown and getting hooked up to my first two (of many) monitors and cords for the day, we were able to watch and confirm that I was having contractions; however, they were not progressing at a ‘satisfactory’ pace. This news only confirmed the over-looming fear I had of the day that was to come. A long labor, lots of pushing, exhaustion, a failed epidural…pretty much every horrific detail I could possibly imagine. At about 7:30 am, Amy told Beau and me to grab a little breakfast and start walking the halls of the labor and delivery floor to hopefully give my contractions a little more ‘kick’ before starting me on pitocin.

So, we walked. We quickly realized we had about three long hallways to walk and in order to make this task somewhat enjoyable, we needed to create our own fun. We called our moms. We developed a rating system and code name to track the level of pain I experienced with each contraction. We made friends with the laundry guy. We walked until we reached the very end of the hallway and tagged each fire extinguisher and hand sanitizer we found. We made fun of my socks. We did what we could to walk, talk, and breathe in the day ahead…a day that would eventually be the most memorable, most important day of our lives.

I never thought I would go into labor on my own. I was destined to go late, likely through induction, and after my induction was scheduled for October 13, I accepted the fact and actually looked forward to the opportunity to ‘plan around’ my labor. I also loved that my doctor, Dr. Hines, would be there to deliver Baby J. As we walked, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment that I wouldn’t have her there to be the support she had been throughout my pregnancy. She was exactly the type of calming presence I needed in that delivery room. I trusted her and genuinely felt that throughout my pregnancy, she cared about me as a soon-to-be mom. As much as I wanted her there, I knew it was wishful thinking when Amy mentioned that she might come in on her day off to deliver Baby J. “We’ll give her a call and just let her know that you are here today,” she said.

When Dr. Hines walked into my hospital room that morning, Beau said my face said it all. There she was, on her day off, ready to deliver our baby boy. My mind was flooded with emotions. Excitement and gratitude, relief and reverence, guilt and a new motivation to get this baby out in a decent hour so as to not keep her there all day. Although Dr. Hines didn’t exactly commit to hours upon hours of labor, she simply smiled and casually said, “Well, I’ll be around for awhile to see how you’re doing.” I think at this moment, we both knew she was there for the long haul. Dr. Hines…Godsend Number Two .

In the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I always found it interesting (and a little disheartening) that women found it important to tell me every horrific detail about their own labor, as if to fill my already clouded mind with nightmarish visions of what was to come. Well, now that I am part of the motherhood club, I plan to be different. I plan to hug soon-to-be moms and tell them about all the joys I remember about the day I gave birth. Joys that blow the horrific details out of the water.

I think God had decided I had waited long enough to meet this little boy. The morning that had started off so slow quickly turned to a series of quick snapshots that will forever be etched in my memory. I had no idea that at 10:00 that morning, as I apprehensively gave the ‘okay’ for my epidural, that I would hold a baby boy in my arms in a matter of five hours.

It all went so fast; however, there are details I will never forget about that afternoon.

I remember Amy’s hands pulling my shoulders in close as I silently prayed through my epidural. I remember Dr. Jackson laughing when I asked whether I would feel the needle and he replied, “I’m already done.”

I remember my mom giving me a kiss on the forehead when they arrived and wondering how she felt to see her daughter just hours away from having one of her own.

I remember the look of worry on my little brother’s face as I winced in pain through the ‘hot spot’ that developed in my abdomen.

I remember Amy being so excited about my progress and making Dr. Hines “find out for herself,” instead of telling her how dilated I was.

I remember Dr. Hines telling me she had better run home and “put something in the crock pot for dinner,” and me smiling, knowing she would not leave until this baby was born.

I remember Dr. Hines saying, “well, I guess I better get ready,” as I first realized this baby was ready to come much faster than I anticipated.

I remember the look on Brenda, another nurse’s face, as she calmly encouraged me through pushing. I remember the impressed faces of the nurses and the motivation it provided me to keep going. I remember the “oh mys,” and “wows,” and “this is amazing,” and “you are doing so good, Ashley,” that accompanied my 20 minutes of pushing. I remember feeling stronger than I’ve ever felt before. Superwoman.

I remember skipping a couple contractions and breathing through an oxygen mask because the baby was coming much faster than what he should. I remember Dr. Hines saying, “this is incredible,” and Amy grabbing my camera, and looking at Beau’s face, and wondering what my parents were thinking in the waiting room.

I remember the first cry. The first glimpse of the sweet body, the scrunched up face, and the warm touch of my little boy on my chest. I couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him, staring into his sweet little face. I remember whispering, “mommy’s here,” and “I love you,” and Beau’s face so close to mine, sniffling through tears as we stared into the face of our son.

I remember the warmth of his body on my chest, all 8 pounds, 21.5 inches of him. I remember his new little cry, and his perfect little round head, and the way he seemed to instantly recognize my voice.

(Isn't this picture awesome?!?!  Thank you, Amy, for capturing such a moment.  I have a feeling this is a picture we will laugh about for years.  I can just see it displayed on Cruz's graduation table someday!)

I remember the nurses asking for our name and Dr. Hines telling me she had never delivered a Cruz before and that she thinks we may have started a trend.

I remember the looks of my family’s faces as they filed into the room. The smiles and laughs and kisses and hugs they shared with us, with the nurses and doctors, and with each other.

I remember the peace I felt in our hospital room after the last visitor left for the night. The dimmed lights, a swaddled baby in my arms, and the soft quietness of the room. I remember feeling so proud, so in awe.

It’s really hard to put into words the next two days in the hospital. A part of me felt like we were playing house, but a bigger part of me knew it was the real thing. We were parents. Our lives were changed forever. I remember wrapping Cruz in a tiny blanket and taking him for his first walk around the hospital, down the same halls we had walked just one day before. I remember decorating his hospital cradle with my favorite blue blanket, his hippo from Grandma Kelly, and puppy from Cousin Charly. I remember feeling such a bond, such a strong instinct to love, protect, and take care of him.

I loved our days at the hospital.  It was a sort of honeymoon.  Two days of drowning out the world around us and focusing on nothing but the new baby in our lives.  Having an amazing group of people there giving us time to bond as a family, yet, making sure I was taking care of myself.  And who can forget the amazing jacuzzi tub!  Beau was more than ready to go home on Thursday, but I knew I would miss the people, miss the newness, and miss the escape. 

The day we went home from the hospital was a whirlwind. But the moment we walked in our house, I felt this incredible sense of peace. Peace in the form of a wide-eyed, soft faced boy laying on his mom and dad’s bed for the first time. Peace in the form of a house tour, showing Cruz every room, every important detail of our world. Peace in the form of staring at him from the side of the crib rail. Leaning over and kissing the forehead of this little boy…it became real…this moment is a moment I have dreamed about for so long.

Welcome to this world, Cruz Bennett. Know that we have more love for you than we know how to give and our lives forever changed on October 12, 2010.

First Milestones...

It's hard to believe today is Monday morning, the start of our first full week with Baby Cruz.  Beau is back to work and this is my first afternoon, first moment home alone with my baby boy.  As I sit at the kitchen table, listening to the quiet, I can't help but think how much has changed in one week.  Last week, I was at the doctor, impatiently awaiting my induction, and today, that all seems like weeks ago.  The minute this little life decided to join ours, the rest of the story just kind of melded into place. 

We had a weekend of many milestones with our little Cruz.  I know babies change, grow, and pick up on new things almost every single day, but it's been amazing to see new changes within even a week.  Yesterday, Cruz was awake and alert almost all morning.  He had his eyes open, concentrated on the bright spaces in the house, and was even glued to the TV at various parts of the night.  I'm not sure when, what, and how far little newborns can see, but it almost seemed like he started focusing and seeing more of the world around him yesterday.  It was fun to see his sparkly blue eyes more.

Cruz and his dad shared a pretty important milestone yesterday...their first Bears game.  Throughout my pregnancy and especially once football season kicked off, Beau has been anxiously awaiting his idea of the perfect game day buddy: one who enjoys Sunday afternoon naps, doesn't fight for the remote, and doesn't give him crap when the Bears make a bad play.  So, yesterday morning, Beau insisted we break the golden rule of parenting and wake up a sleeping Cruz in order to give him a bath and dress him in his Sunday best: his new Bears outfit.  Although it was a little large for Cruz, he was a good sport and a good fan (even though his first game did involve a loss to the Seahawks). 

Father and son, excited to hang out in the recliner all afternoon.

Another milestone.  Cruz's first meal out.  Beau's cousin, Jill and her boyfriend, Rob, came up from Iowa City to see Cruz.  The five of us went to grab a pizza at the OP.  It felt weird to haul in a diaper bag and car seat, ask for a car seat holder-thingy, and concentrate on keeping a baby quiet while I enjoyed a piece (or two) of pizza.  I was a little nervous, but Cruz did great.  Turns out, a trip in the car makes for a pretty long nap afterwards.  We might have to keep this tip in mind at 3 o'clock in the morning. 

A weekend of milestones, for Cruz, and for momma.  I've been initiated into parenthood.  During Cruz's bath yesterday morning, I received my first 'shower.'  Let's just say mine didn't include warm, sudsy water, and Johnson's Baby Bath!