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.
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