As you can tell, if you’ve read my blog at all, that I love being a Daddy.  There are so many magical moments that you can only experience when you’re a parent.  But I’m not gonna lie, there’s also moments that you could definitely do without.

One happened tonight.

Babito normally loves bathtime, and it’s part of my nightly routine with him.  Mommy takes the morning and early evening shifts.  I take over when I get home from work.  My job is to play with him for about an hour, give him a bath, read him a few books, and put him to bed.

This routine is deeply ingrained in him.  The steps are almost always pain-free.  I am very impressed with my skills.

We play for a while and then I tell him it’s time for a bath, usually around 7:30.  This usually excites him.  By 8:00 he’s on my lap in the rocking chair in his room reading a book or two.  He almost always picks either an Elmo or Thomas the Train book.  He knows them both cover to cover, as do I, unfortunately.  Then we say his prayers and it’s right to bed.  I used to stay in his room until he fell asleep, but that was causing all kinds of problems with him not falling asleep, so now I leave as soon as I put him in bed.  He cried a little the first few nights after I made that switch, but it’s working very well now.

Back to tonight.

Mommy was upstairs, so she was helping me get him ready for his bath (thanks, Mommy!).  As she was undressing him I went into our bedroom to change, so Mommy put him in the bath.  He was NOT happy, even when I came into the bathroom.  He was screaming and would not sit down in the bath, despite my cajoling, threats, and “Daddy Look.”  I quickly bathed him while he stood there screaming and immediately took him out of the bath (no drum solos or Pirates of the Caribbean karaoke – don’t ask), put on his pajamas while he continued to scream, told him we were skipping the book because he was being a bad boy while he pierced my eardrums, put him in his crib (yes, he’s still in a crib….he’s never once tried to climb out although he climbs up on everything else in the house), said his prayers while he continued to hysterically scream, and then left the room.

As I stood in the hallway listening to him wail “Daddy Book, Daddy Book!” my wife gently reminded me that we got him out his routine and suggested that I go back in and read to him.  Actually, although I greatly appreciate her help (in case she’s reading this) his routine went off track by her putting him in the bathtub instead of me.  Does some tiny change in a toddler’s routine really throw him off that much that he turns into the Brat of the Year?  Tonight it did.

I went back into his room and told him that I would read him a book if he stopped crying.  He struggled for a minute but was able to get down to a slight hyperventilation.

I told him “One book, that’s it.”  He said “One book, that’s it, Daddy.”

We started to read the Elmo book, and when we got about a quarter of the way through (in about two minutes) he said “I go to bed now, Daddy.”  Ah, the joys of parenthood.

A happier bath, many months ago…

What am I, a dish?!?

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