{Yeah. I wish my bathroom looked like this. Or do I? Not sure. But I like it.}

I can't stand baths.

I know I've probably said it a kazillion times on this thing, but really. Can't stand them. In my past life, I was definitely a land dweller. A cat. {We'll go with cheetah.} People always make the idea of a bath look all sexy and stuff. And by stuff I mean relaxing. So I try that. I can't pull it off. I view myself as the opposite of sexy. And relaxing. The unfortunate/permanent side effect of becoming a mom. I guess that leaves me with unappealing and high strung.

Score.

Picture me with a shower cap + back scrubber. Let's be productive here. My idea of a bath.

I took one last night. I thought it would be quite relaxing after such a long day. Soak. In the tub. Bludgeoning bod=weightless. 'I can move past my notions of soaking it up in the nasties,' I thought, as I lowered myself gingerly into my garden sized tub and optimistically mixed the warm water with some aromatics. After five minutes I was wishing for a plasma tv or access to the internet. At least a handy rack where I could check out a magazine. Stupid pointless bath.

I refuse to wash my own dishes in standing water. The idea of something sitting in its own filth completely repulses me. So, I'm much less compelled to soak in my own wee beasties, until I shrivel into a prune. Not to mention I may suffer from a seizure with the candles around me flickering my eyesight to death. They seem to go into strobe mode and it totally throws me off. I'm a panicky mess grasping for towels and some kind of a steel arm assistant to get me out of there until I can regain some composure. I couldn't wash my hair...My belly poked out over the water, and I figured none of this was really counting, as I did some sort of an awkward not so all immersed bob in between dry and wet. Shouldn't I soak all at once? Aren't I breaking the sacred bath time rules?

You think garden sized would be large enough for me. It's not. It's awkward. There's no real place to gently lower my head without my belly dragging me down so I can pull a paralyzed Michelle Phieffer via What Lies Beneath, urgently pulling at the drain with my feet while the nostrils slowly gurgle in rising water. Not pretty. Should I fold my knees or straighten them out so I can prop them over the edge? That position usually results in a numbed butt and I really didn't want to call for Jamin's help in getting OUT of the tub...Yeah. NOT sexy. Might as well put on my nightgown afterwards. Permanently.

He probably ventures to work every day and talks about "what his fat wife did THIS time." Didn't want to add to his collection.

I made a few bubble sculptures with a few discernable shapes. I grew tired of the not-so-productive OR relaxing situation, surrendered to the inevietable, and escaped into the shower. I've concluded if I'm this stressed over a bath, that translates into an honest need for a FULL day at the SPA.

I'm booking tomorrow. Thanks, Jamin.

Here's your four for one deal this week in supabloggablogginworld: {Yeah, I didn't have it in me to do it twice...and I REALLY REALLY NEED YOUR HELP SO KEEP READING!!!}

{Image source: You guessed it: DOMINO. Yeah I'm the dork who just won't move on...}

a seamstress' call forhelp

visions of summer are dancing in myhead...

prima ballerinaII

I totally also have a fun new page where I now store stuff because I closed down my etsy store. HURRAY!!!