Slice of Life
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers
A mommy blogger that I follow made a post today that included a picture of her then infant baby and toddler sitting in their bouncy seats, while she attempted to shower. She shared in her post how taking a shower caused her anxiety and she longed for the days that she would be able to take a long, hot shower in peace. Her post ended with her sharing how being a parent is the most “heartbreaking and rewarding gift” that she has ever been given.
Her post took me back to 2014, when I blogged about a similar experience.
“The task of taking a shower when you are responsible for a little one can be difficult, to say the least. When Amelia was first born, I would place her in her chair, right outside the bathroom (our bathroom is minuscule) and she would fall asleep, snuggled underneath her blanket.
As she grew, I would sing to her. My husband found this amusing; impressed by the songs I chose to sing to our daughter.
Like usual, I strapped Amelia into her chair, placed her outside the bathroom, handed her a couple of toys, and jumped into the shower.
I was halfway through shampooing my hair when I heard toys hit the floor. I peeked my head out from behind the curtain to this view…

My daughter-the-daredevil, sitting up in her chair, throwing her toys onto the floor, and trying to reach for them (this isn’t dangerous or anything). Being me, I jumped out of the shower, wet and soapy, returned her toys and without managing to fall, made it back under the hot water.
Needless to say… two seconds later… all four toys were back on the floor AND she was sitting up, leaning forward, reaching for them again!
I quickly (almost got all of the suds out) rinsed my hair and rescued my daughter before she toppled over onto the tiled floor. No more easy showers. Who said showering was supposed to be easy anyways?”
Parenting is this beautiful, unpredictable, anxiety inducing, sometimes heartbreaking, unbelievable, joyful gift.
One moment you’re holding a brand new baby trying to make sense of this parenting thing. The next moment you’re chasing a toddler and then figuring out how to balance being a parent to a three-year-old and a baby. Then you send your baby off to kindergarten and then first grade and then somehow your oldest is in second grade and your baby turns six this year.
The moments pass quickly, sometimes without you even noticing. The “last times” sneak up on you before you even realize they’re gone. Their little voices change. Their chubby toddler faces lean out. Their adorable words become corrected.
No more “strawbabies” or “geen” or “mammy” or “pops” or “gamote.” There is still “basketti” though.
You try to remain present and remain in the moment. You try not to take too many photos or too many videos. And then before you know it, they’ve changed.
They’re no longer the baby sitting in the chair outside of the tiny bathroom. They’re the eight-year-old climbing the snow piles in the backyard and penguin sliding down the hill. They’re the five-year-old dressed in princess pajamas with two bottom teeth missing, who sounds a little more grown-up each day.
Parenting really is the most “heartbreaking and rewarding” gift I have ever been given.