Noah's first floater

Tonight I experienced one of THOSE parenting moments... you know, the kind where you say "Eww!" then laugh, and then think, "hmm... how do I fix this?"

On this occasion, it was bathtime. A lovely time of day, really. Unless you have a baby who isn't fond of bathtime, it's a no-brainer that almost all parents like this nightly (or twice weekly) routine. There's lots of soap, splashing, smiles, and a mess that is usually contained to an area designed for dirty work.

Noah loves taking a bath. Like usual, he was all smiles tonight, pulling up and peering over the tub as I filled it with water. He got in, he got clean and then he enjoyed the playtime portion of bathing.

Everything was great, and then I noticed him "lifting up," so to speak. Stupid mommy... I thought he was trying to get a good look at the drain (this is not unusual). And then I thought I heard him grunt, also not unusual if he's concentrating intensely on balancing or standing.

But then he grunted some more. Before I could register what happened, there it was... a FLOATER!! Ugh. If you're a little sensitive, you should stop reading here. :)

That floater was like a submarine torpedo. It zoomed through the water faster than I could grab Noah for the recovery mission. Double ugh. A new parent, I clearly made some rookie mistakes. For instance, I didn't take the baby out of the tub right away. No, instead I reached for a wad of toilet paper to wrangle the torpedo floater. Obviously we all know what happens when toilet paper gets wet, particularly when it's generic TP and not a sturdier brand like Charmin. So now I have a baby in a tiny tub (in the big bathtub) with a wad of wet paper and a brown torpedo on the loose. Triple ugh.

I managed to get a grip (on the floater, that is), and successfully deposited it in its intended resting place—the toilet. Then I looked at Noah and wondered, "what now?" It seemed like a lot of work to get him out of the tub, scrub it out and start over. So I improvised. I reached for the untainted wash cloth, stood him up, relathered and rinsed with clean water. Rookie or not, I figured that was close enough to clean.

We moved on to the dry cycle, and the rest is history.

In reflection, I'm wondering if this means my kid will be the one in future years that causes those community pool alarms..."Get out of the pool. We have a contamination!" Oh well... at least he's regular!