The shampoo fiasco.

Emmett, otherwise known as the troublemaker, loves soap. He likes soap even better if it has a pump top on it. I get it, really. Who can really resist the pump top on hand soap, body wash, shampoo, or even conditioner? I buy those types of containers because they are easy - and also so the kids can dispense it themselves without much adult help (trust me when you have three kids who need help CONSTANTLY, you find the convenience of even dispensing soap without help a lifesaver). So the great shampoo fiasco is my fault - I readily admit this. I should have known that eventually the great shampoo fiasco would occur.

Now, I know you are wondering what this event could possibly be, but first I have to tell you about the warning signs. When Emmett turned five in January, we decided that he was old enough to bathe alone. Usually, Ethan takes a bath with him, or showers while Emmett bathes in our giant soaking tub in the master bath, so he has some basic supervision. Ethan is typically a rule-follower, so if Emmett starts causing trouble Ethan will come running. Yes, when the five year old bathes alone there is usually a puddle of water on the floor or a bit of a mess - mostly 1000 toys left in the bath tub - but these things are to be expected. Emmett can nicely wash himself and even shampoo his own hair, so we are quite happy that he can bathe by himself now. Here is the minor problem. He loves soap. I buy the Costco size Johnson's bath wash that all of the kids can use as both a body wash and shampoo. It doesn't sting and is really a one-product- fits-all purposes kind of thing. Emmett simply likes to use a lot of it. Again, not a sticking point to have the two oldest children slightly independent. So, for seven months Emmett has been doing okay at bath time. Slight water puddles, tons of toys, and probably too much shampoo - but we can see past that for a half an hour of freedom.

Then, a couple of weeks ago I hear some banging and clunking around upstairs during bath time. I here lots of giggling and I know that trouble must be happening. I head upstairs to see Ethan and Emmett using my bathroom floor as a slip and slide. Ethan announces to me that Emmett "shampooed the floor" and that it is really slippery. So, at this point I lose my mind. I see two inches of bubbles and water on my entire bathroom floor - a good 12 feet by 4 feet. I ask Emmett what shampoo he used, and he points to the Costco size baby shampoo - at least a quart, which is now empty. I mean he actually unscrewed the lid and added water to make sure he got every single drop of soap. Instead of killing both of them - I calmly (and am quite proud of myself) said, "you better get it cleaned up now. Get a mop and scrub this floor until it is dry and not slippery, so I don't fall and break my neck." I must have had the "look" because neither of them said a word. It took them a good 30 minutes but it was done to my satisfaction, but this is not the great shampoo fiasco.

When I came downstairs, I announced to my husband that Emmett needed to be supervised for every bath from now on since he made this crazy mess and used all of the baby shampoo. Two days later my husband lovingly says he is going to head upstairs and give all of the boys baths. I am thrilled that he taking the new supervision rule seriously and watching them, so I don't think twice about it. He comes down an hour later and says all went well and the boys are in bed. I don't think about it again. I was just happy someone else was taking care of the kids, so I could relax for a bit.

The next morning I get up early and hop in the shower. I notice the floor is a little slippery in the shower, and rinse it off before I get in. The day before I had made a Costco trip and bought myself two half gallon sizes of shampoo and conditioner - each has a pump top on them. I wet my hair and reach down and pump shampoo into my hand, and it won't come out. I lift up the container thinking I must need to open it in some way, and feel that it is light. Yes, light -- as in empty. I am puzzled for a minute, and then I lift up the conditioner bottle. It, too, is light. I started to think that maybe I had not bought new bottles the day before. Maybe I hadn't brought them upstairs - were they still downstairs on the dining room table? Nope. I remember bringing them up the night before - right before my husband bathed the kids. So at this point I realize what happened. I am now screaming at my husband at 5:30 in the morning about whether or not Emmett showered or bathed last night. My husband stumbles into the bathroom wondering why I am freaking out -and he says Emmett decided to take a shower. I then calmly explain that Emmett pumped all of the shampoo and conditioner down the shower drain. My husbands is like yeah he does that. I said NO, he pumped ALL of the brand new shampoo AND conditioner down the drain. That is more than a gallon. I get out of the shower and dry off and realize the hand soap (with a pump) on the counter is also gone. So in two days this five year old has managed to pump out over two gallons of liquid soap. All apparently without my husband, who was supervising, noticing.

I asked my husband, "I thought you came up here and supervised while the kids bathed?" and of course, he answered, "I did."

The most terrifying thing on the planet: water!

I don't understand what it is about my kids and water. The truth is they love it MOST of the time. If there is a swimming pool, a hose, or even a puddle, they will find it and soak themselves. Usually when wearing their brand new white clothes when we were about to take a family picture - okay you caught me I would never put my three boys in white. So, I am not sure then why my kids HATE to bathe. I know that all children hate to take baths (or showers when they get older), but mine don't actually hate the bathing part. You know being in a tub of water to play - what they HATE more than anything in life is getting their faces wet.

Often when it comes time for me to wash their hair, they will avoid me by trying to go the furthest corner of the tub, then I have to grab them and pull them toward me. I try to calmly explain that if they look up NO WATER will get in their eyes or their face (I have even tried this fancy cup that has a soft edge to rest on their head, and usually give them a washcloth to put over their face), but by this point they are more freaked out then the cat in the bathtub. They are screaming hysterically, clawing at me, and trying to run away from me all at the same time. I think at some point one of the neighbors is going to call the police on me because they think I am killing the children - really, I have even tried to use that as a threat to get the kids to calm down. Of course, after trying to wrestle the kids into position where I can scoop up some water in the cup and pour it over their head to try to get the shampoo out of their hair, I have lost of all of my patience. I don't want to hear them scream like I am hurting them, I want them to sit still and get over it. I am yelling, soaked, and really irritated over the giant fight over such a small thing. It is just some WATER. They have made the whole experience worse by putting up a fight, so I lose all of my compassion and just start dumping over their heads as quickly as possible.

After the bath is over, their noses are running and they can't catch their breath because they were fussing so much, and they are angry at ME - they will hold it against me the rest of the night. I am exhausted and this is after just wrestling one - still two more to go.

This is not just a small child thing - the two year old gets over it much faster than his brothers. Emmett is the worst. Ethan now showers and washes his own hair, but lies to me and tells me he washed his hair when he didn't - I smell it to make sure. So here is what I really don't get - I have been washing their hair and faces for YEARS, literally, and they don't get used to it, but the moment we go to the swimming pool, they are swimming UNDER WATER.

See it isn't about getting their faces wet at all - I think it is about making me crazy.