Bookends

Dylan,

You've mastered the opening and closing act of each day nearly independently now. If I lay out your clothes the night before, when you awaken in the morning you will dress yourself stealthily before exiting your room and heading towards ours for the goose-bump announcement. At the end of the day you are now able take your own bath. This encompasses plugging the drain, starting the water, getting undressed, using the toilet, getting in the bath, turning off the water when there's enough, bathing yourself (including washing your hair) unplugging the drain and getting out of the tub. There you stand calling for one of us to get your green hooded "burrito" towel which rests on it's hook on the back of the door, above the reach of your increasingly lanky appendages. Yes, sometimes the bath ends up too cold, and I question how clean your hair really gets, but in the overall scheme things, I'm pretty impressed. Then I have to wonder how you can so easily do this complicated process but often get distracted while walking from one end of the room to the other to carry out a simple request. Or why when I send you into the bathroom to go potty, I often find you 20 minutes later lying on the carpet outside the bathroom door with your clothes still off, totally engrossed in something other than the task you set out to do.

I know the real answer lies in the fact that you are proud of yourself for doing the whole bath yourself. You are practically overflowing with self esteem as you inform us of what you've done, and it's clear you enjoy how excited Dad and I get when you emerge from the tub ready for your towel. We've always tried hard to foster your self esteem, and it's always a joy to witness it.

Now, if we could only master all those other basic self-care tasks that present themselves between the wake-up and bed times of each day...

Check back in about 16 years.


Mom