a newer, cleaner era dawning

In a mystical congruence of events, Ilse has taken her first bath. Surely she's bathed before, you say. Well,  if you're asking if I've washed her, of course. I wipe her down regularly. But immerse her lower half in a vat of standing water? She has found that most disagreeable. Ear-piercing shrieks the entire time her toes are in the water, ceasing only when she'll been pulled out and toweled off -disagreeable. 

She slept through her actual "first bath."

So she's has a couple of dips in the kitchen sink that she didn't totally hate (two, I believe. Maybe there was a third?).  But that's it. Seriously. We've just been wiping her down for the past nine months. 

Sure she's happy, now that's she's OUT of the tub.

 

Which brings me to last night. After a particularly grubbifying evening which included beach sand (both the digging in and some eating of) I knew I couldn't just re-diaper her sandy body and call it good. She needed to soak. I prepared myself for the screaming and plunked her into a warm bath next to Uli. A few stunned seconds passed (again with the horrifying water, Mama?) and she decided all was well. Ilse picked up a bath ring and happily spish-splashed with her sister. I even washed her hair with nary a tear. 

The first time I'd successfully washed her hair without her crying (first of now three times! Whoo-hoo!)

I'm not convinced she's a bath lover now, but at least I'm no longer certain she'll be the Pigpen of her group. We'll continue to give this bathing thing a try and perhaps one day I'll be able to snap follow-up bath shots to go with these first-bath photos. 

My sweet (and, sure, slightly dirty) babe.