The Flood

We've had some sort of mystery leak in the kids' bathroom this year, but last Thursday night, we had a flood there. And, unfortunately, it was man-made. Elliot and Jack started taking their showers and baths on their own this year. On Thursday, Elliot opted for bath, so I got him set up, turned on the water, and left the room. That's our usual routine. I go back and check on them a few minutes later to see if they've gotten around to cleaning any part of themselves, (which they never have.) But, before my first check, I heard Elliot calling for help... When I opened the bathroom door, I saw water pouring out over the side of the tub and onto the floor. There was almost an inch of water on the floor already, and the faucet was still all the way on, spewing out more by the second. I turned off the water and screamed for Ted (which is always the first thing I do in a crisis, and Ted's least favorite part of my personality,) threw all of our bath towels onto the floor, and ran downstairs. The boys' bathroom is on the 5th floor of our house. There are three more bathrooms stacked below theirs, and then the basement. I ran into our bathroom, which is the next one down. Water was pouring down through the ceiling. It looked like it was raining indoors. I threw more towels down on that floor, and continued downward. As I got to the landing of the stairs on our floor, I heard our doorbell buzzer. I cringed, because I knew instinctively that it must be our tenant from downstairs. I ran down to find water leaking into his apartment as well, mostly on the floor of his bedroom and on his bed. Disaster. Times three stories. Once we shut the water off, we were actually able to soak up the water on the floors pretty quickly. And it never did make it all the way down to the bottom bathroom or the basement. Almost as quickly as it started, the flood was over. Everything dried out, and we're just left with a few water stains on the bathroom ceilings. Oh, and 4 gigantic loads of wet towels, our tenant's dry-clean-only bedding, and the next day we realized that the water dripping through the walls had shorted out our other tenants' refrigerator. I asked Elliot what happened, and why he didn't turn the water off once the bath filled up. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I didn't notice."

Time for a Hot Bath

The last few weeks have been hard. I think probably the hardest ones I can remember since Jack was a newborn. I'm exhausted and overwhelmed, overworked and frustrated. Everyone kindly asks us about the boys' school situation. Telling the story so often, I'm starting to depress myself! I came home from drop offs this morning, excited by the prospect of a few quiet hours at home. I quickly nursed Theo and tucked him in bed, threw some clothes in the wash, checked my email, and decided the perfect respite from all this stress was a hot bath. I filled up our tub, grabbed a book, and hopped in. The sun was streaming in through the window. I was watching the leaves blowing on the trees, and the clouds moving across the sky. I had three beautiful minutes. Then, I heard a noise. I stupidly forgot to bring the baby monitor into the bathroom. I couldn't tell if I was hearing something outside, or Theo crying in the distance, through two closed doors. I waited, not hearing anything for a few seconds. Then, it started again. I hadn't even had time to wash myself off or get my hair wet. What to do? Anger welled up inside me, as it always does when life seems to be asking more of me than I can give. I decided to jump out of the bath quickly, without draining the tub, and see if it was Theo. It was. After only a few minutes of sleep, his bad cold had woken him up. He was crying with what little voice he has left at this point, desperately trying to catch his breath through his stuffed up nose. I brought his infant seat into the bathroom and plopped him in it. He cried for a moment, but seemed content to have me talking to him from a few feet away. I jumped back in the bath, and quickly washed myself off. Then I picked Theo up and brought him into the bath with me. He was afraid for just a moment, then relaxed in my arms. We stayed in the tub for at least a half an hour, playing, talking and just cuddling together. It wasn't the long, quiet bath alone I had dreamed about that morning, but it was just as relaxing, and a thousand times more memorable. Without even a diaper on, Theo seemed so small. Holding him naked against my bare chest brought back the same feelings of amazement and love from the delivery room. It was a surprisingly special moment, a serendipitous reward, a memory I'll always treasure.