The Forgotten Art of Bath Taking

I couldn't even tell you when the last time I took a bath was. I remember when we first moved into this house, how excited I was that we had a master bathroom with our own tub, tucked away just off the back corner of our bedroom. A bathroom with a window in it is luxurious to me, so this bathroom, that nobody had ever taken a shower or bath in before ever, since we were the first people to live here, was like a dream come true. A squeaky clean, dream come true.

I took a lot of baths while I was pregnant with Charlie. I used fun scented bath bombs, delicious tasting (not that I tasted them) sugar scrubs, relaxing herb filled bubbles... all that good stuff. And then I was the mother of two children, and almost every form of me time, that includes bath time, went down the drain along with the calming scents of lavender and chamomile.

On Saturday morning, after spending a good amount of time in the kitchen, I announced to my family "I'm taking a bath... a long one... don't expect to see me any time soon", and then disappeared into a far off land of the unknown upstairs.

Lucky for me, there was just enough liquid bubbles left at the bottom of the glass jar to suds up a thick layer of white foam in the tub. I adjusted the water to a scorching hot temperature that I knew would turn my skin red, and carefully settled into a basin full of burning silence and temporary sanity.


I forgot how amazing a bath can be, not only for your body, but also for your soul. I know I say it all the time, but it really is the little things in life that keep me from going completely crazy.

I've officially turned into that lady that likes getting bath stuff at Christmas time.