Oh Peanut -
You sure did love bath-time. I think back to your very first "real" bath, in our kitchen sink, when you were 11 days old. Your umbilical cord had finally fallen off, and you were healed and ready to get bathed! You were soooo tiny. At just over 5 pounds, you almost completely fit into one of Dadda's hands. We took such care to make sure the water was the perfect temperature, had all the washcloths, baby shampoo, and your awesome cow towel. The second you hit the water you gave us a look of confusion, then wonder. From that moment on, bath-time was a treat.
Fast forward one year, not too long after your first birthday. You received a ton of cool bath toys for your birthday, and we had upgraded you to our giant whirpool tub. Of course, we had to outfit it with special froggy anti-skid mats after a few...um...mishaps. Turns out, without the froggy mats the tub was more like a slip-n-slide! I got rid of all the candles, bubble baths, and other grown-up stuff and converted the area to Con-man's Tub. Every Sunday morning we would devote at least an hour to bath-time, right before your nap. One-by-one you'd pull down every single toy, splash around and giggle that amazing, infectious giggle of yours. We always felt so bad when it was time to pull your pruned up little self out of the tub. But, then I got to hold, snuggle and smell you. Pure bliss.
I still haven't had the heart to remove the froggy mats from our tub. They make me smile every time I walk in the bathroom, and I love the memories of bath-time. Your loss has loomed large over me today...it's been a struggle to put one foot in front of the other all day and I'm just looking forward to going to bed. Then I can dream of you.
Peanut, I hold you in my heart and cherish the tears and the memories. To the moon and back.