Pattern Analysis

Kate pooped in the bath last night for what feels like the 23^rd time. I suppose if I truly count (and include the 3 shower blunders), last night was actually her 8^th, but still. Anna did it like twice, and we were disgusted. Eight times is excessive. Period.

Since I have ample time these days to sit back and observe my surroundings and analyze things, I’ve been trying to analyze Kate’s pattern here. I figure if there’s an explainable pattern, there may be a way to prevent this from recurring. Although the faint smell of bleach isn’t unpleasant and I know the tub…and 874 toys… have been thoroughly sanitized, when poop is involved, my brain always registers those things as clean* or “clean,” not simply clean.

Okay, back to the pattern analysis:

Pre-bed rest, on my watch, Kate had pooped in the bath twice and in the shower (with me—to my horror) once, and this was over a span of like 6 months. At least 4 of the remaining 5 offenses have occurred during my 4 weeks of bed rest when, might I add, the kids’ bath time has been supervised by their father. (Maybe I should chart this out for visual clarity… Okay, I won’t.)

To be fair, Kate may just now be entering some sort of “peak age” for bath-time pooping, but I find this the least likely hypothesis. In theory, this rise in crime could be due to any number of external variables from time of bathing to change in diet to temperature of the water. I think the most logical explanation, however, is her poor father’s distractibility as he frantically tries to multitask each evening to prepare for the next day. For instance, when the girls bathe in the master bedroom’s whirlpool tub, Brian may be 10 feet away putting away laundry. When bathing in the hallway bathroom, he may duck out briefly to grab fresh towels, or he may simply turn his back to wipe toothpaste blobs off the bathroom sink. Although he’s technically still present, he misses the telltale signs that something bad is going to go down. He doesn’t see “the face” or the stiff shift in posture. Instead, he is alerted to the situation when Anna shrieks (assuming the girls are bathing together) or when he goes over to shampoo Kate’s hair. Game over. Yuck.

In his defense, Brian has been handling all of this like a pro. Whereas he used to nearly vomit at the thought of poop in the bath, he now has the clean-up effort down to a near-science: girls out and into the shower, dispose of any solids, pre-rinse, diluted bleach for the toys and tub, scrub the girls, dry the girls, diaper Kate, drain the tub, wipe everything, rinse it all, and Voila! Crisis managed. And he doesn’t get mad. Amazing.

I thought I might be able to come up with a loving way to point out to Brian that I believe he could save himself the clean-up hassle if he wouldn’t take his eyes off Kate in the first place—not because I worry about her safety. He is always right there, after all. But I suppose there’s really no loving way to bring this up. Brian is doing what he can to keep his head above water and is dealing with a whole host of worries and distractions all his own. He has enough on his mind that he may very well miss “the face” even if he is staring right at it. He is stepping up huge for our family, so I suppose I shouldn’t nitpick his methods. Girls end up clean. Tubs end up clean*. And his patience and love haven’t run out for us.

You should have seen Brian during the Chiefs’ game yesterday. In those bitter last moments of the 4^th quarter, Kate was sitting in her high chair being grouchy, demanding snacks but obviously displeased with the choices she was being offered. Brian’s multitasking then was fascinating. He would go from yelling at the TV and throwing a pillow to cooing at his one-year-old and gently wiping crumbs from her hands in the blink of an eye. And back again.

Since I’m all about analyzing patterns from here on the couch, I should mention that Brian has a pattern all his own. He is consistently self-sacrificing. Although he gets grumpy and tired, his girls—me included—get the best of him. I suppose I should focus on that and what a tremendous blessing he is to our family. After all, there are worse things in life than clean* bathtubs.