Sage's milestones

(first in a continuing series)
Sage had her first home bath when she was about two weeks old. Dean and I had heard all these horror stories about children who slipped in their baby tubs and thus developed a traumatic lifelong water phobia, so we were utterly terrified. (Which is pretty funny for two people who are of the arrogant conviction that they can learn to do anything well, as long as it doesn't involve math.) So I compulsively read and reviewed all the resource material I could find, Dean bought the safest baby bathtub this side of Timbuktu, and, in compliance with all available advice, we assembled a veritable plethora of shampoos, baby washes, towels, facecloths, cotton pads, and dippers next to the tub before the big event commenced.

To our delight and surprise, she immediately took to bathing like a fish to... well, water. She giggled, cooed, and gurgled; in a matter of months, she was splashing away merrily, taking special delight in getting her parents and the surrounding furniture just as soaked as she was. To this day, although she's graduated to the shower stall and the occasional bubble bath in her inflatable mini-pool, she still revels in anything that has to do with water or bubbles. She makes a very indecorous mermaid, however, as she has the tendency to shriek, squeal, and occasionally attempt to 'wash' her fully-clothed mommy.


bathtime for Baby Bunny
On a related note, I took Sage for her monthly check-up today, and she always gets a special treat when we go to the doctor's office, to encourage her to think of the visit as a happy event. So after she got her immunization shot (which she was very brave about, as usual) and a clean bill of health, I asked her what she wanted as a reward. Without hesitation, she replied, "Baby Bunny bath."

Baby Bunny, of course, is the infant toy rabbit that lives in her stupendous Sylvanian Families dollhouse. We had been pretending to bathe Baby Bunny just that morning, but since Sage had serious objections to using the baby's bassinet as a tub ("Mommy! That bed!"), and I had explained to her that we couldn't give Baby Bunny a real bath in the bathroom because her fur would be ruined, we were forced to use my cupped hands in lieu of a bathtub. So I told Sage that we would get Baby Bunny a proper bath soon, and apparently, she decided that 'soon is now'. Thus, the latest addition to the House on the Hill is an old-fashioned tub-and-toilet set, with faux bubbles that we repurposed out of potpourri balls from a handy scent shop.


post script
Sage is sick! She has just the slightest touch of fever and a hint of swelling from her shot today. The doctor cautioned us that this might happen, but Sage has been invincible to such immunization-caused ailments until now. So she's been up and down all night: sometimes perky and excited over her dollhouse bathroom; sometimes listless and limping, favoring her non-injected right leg; and finally fretful and crying at bedtime. Dean and I finally got her to sleep after much cuddling, singing, and judicious use of our patented 'soothing' tones of voice. Now, of course, we're listless and fretful-- comes with the territory, though.

The upshot is, I finally figured out a way to get her to take her medicine without a fuss. She used to hate the whole procedure so much that she'd get upset at the mere sight of a medicine bottle or measuring spoon. So tonight I tried pouring the dose into an empty Jellyace container and giving it to her to swallow on her own. The sticky pink stuff looked all bright and cheerful in the little cup, and she gulped it down with nary a word of complaint. So yay for lateral thinking! I'm getting better at this 'mommy' gig every day...