The Art of the Shower

I am a little embarrassed to admit how long it took me to be able to take a shower after Annalise was born without the assistance of another adult in my home. To be truthful, I don't even know how long it was. But think: REALLY LONG. Because Annalise cried her brains out if she was ever put down. Like, she would really lose it. And I worried that maybe her head would explode. So many days I waited until Dave came home for lunch and showered then. Or I didn't do it at all. Impeccable hygiene was sacrificed for the good of my child's head. Because nobody wants a kid with no head.

After many months Annalise calmed down and I could strap her into her bouncy vibrating seat in the bathroom and take the quickest rinse known to man or mother. Our shower doors are glass but you can't see through them but I can talk to her so that helped.

She is older and crawling all around now and while I would never normally put her in that seat, the bathroom is too small for an exersaucer or pack n' play, so I've continued to do it at shower-time so she doesn't hurt herself or start crying in a far-off room where my soothing tones from underneath the waterfall can't lull her back to sanity. Since she sleeps and naps in our room I have to carefully time the showers nowadays around her naps. Her first nap is two hours after she wakes up. If I do it too close to the nap she is tired and cranky and will not allow it one bit. If I wait until she is asleep the shower will wake her up and her head will explode. If I wait until after the nap it's practically lunchtime by the time I'm done. So I really need to do it right when Dave leaves for work. Which I heroically (and oh-so-hygienically) did today, even though I was so tired from her nighttime antics I thought my own head would explode. Getting it all just right is really an art form and we have it down.

I strapped her in the seat, gave her a binkie and a new cloth book and hopped in. She fussed a little off and on and then after a while her fusses turned to real cries. She wasn't screaming though, so I just kept talking to her while I cleansed at the speed of a Super-Sonic Mommy Missile. Finally she was crying a little too hard, so I stuck my head out of the door to take a glance and she was UPSIDE-DOWN IN HER SEAT. As in, hanging upside down by the twisted seat straps with her legs up where her head should be and her howling head knocking into the metal bar where the feet rest. COMPLETELY UPSIDE DOWN. And flailing and repeatedly bashing her head and completely a tortured wreck. Soaking wet and full of conditioner, I rescued her and she was fine, but other than vowing to toss her seat into the garbage and being mad at the manufacturer for attempting to kill my baby, all I could think was DANG IT NOW WHAT WILL WE DO?

Any suggestions?