Saturday, February 16, 2013

Bath Day

On Saturdays I give the children their good bath.  
The one where I clean out their ears.
Afterward I hold each pink, soft little hand and trim their nails.  
I brush their hair to lie smoothly on their heads
(it will be every which way when they wake up).
Their faces are sparkly with splash induced smiles.
Their eyes are happy.
I put my arms around their little bodies.
Bodies that are becoming lanky, gangley arms and legs trying to fold up onto my lap.
Little E's still do.
Big E's spread out to dangle all around me.  
During the week I have to gather up the scraps of energy left at the end of the day, often I choose stories instead of baths when there's not enough for both.
All that hurrying and noise at the end of the day.
Saturday graces us with time.
When the week is over I look forward to working the lather through their hair.
Their  peaceful upturned faces as I slowly pour water over their backs. 
All week I make them do everything they can do for themselves.
They do lots of jobs for the family.
They do lots to help me.
This time I do for them.
It is a gift.
It feels like love.
When they are all tucked in 
with as many hugs as they want, as much time as they need,
After soft cheeks and kisses have been pressed into palms, to keep there till morning,
I feel so happy. 
So lucky that I have them.
That they are mine to wash and trim and brush.
To care for someone in such a way, meet their most basic needs
I feel is an honor.
A trust.
I will keep it.
And know that it is good.