When Emmy was just a baby, I was (thanks to Jason & Eleni) the one who gave her baths, as you’ll recall from October-ish/November-ish posts.
Yesterday, for the first time in many weeks (on account of my move to Davis) it was time for her and me to take a bath once again. She took one look at the tub and started screaming. I mean screaming.
I lifted her in anyway. But seeing her genuine terror I abandoned plans for cleanliness. Instead, I simply held her close to my saggy naked body and dipped her toes into the water.
Her fear of water worries me. Children need to be water-safe. M___’s grandchild drowned a few years ago.
Today Emmy and I climbed into the tub again. She was wary, but not shrieking this time. I held her close as I climbed in. She clutched me like a baby monkey, face turned into my chest. Slowly, I got her acclimated. Toes wet. Look at this toy. It squeaks. Baby ankles wet. Splash hands.
She never ceased being nervous, but by the end she was immersed chest-deep.
She was fascinated by the sight of my breasts under the water. She grabbed my right nipple: aha! something familiar!
She grabbed my left nipple and twisted it. And then she laughed.
Whatever it takes to make my grandbaby unafraid.