What I know about this picture:
She screamed the entire time it took to fill up the tub * I came in no less the four times to tell to her to stop making tidal waves in the bath * In typical 3-year-old fashion she insisted on doing everything herself * She was furious with me when she got soap in her eyes * I got almost as wet as she did during the whole process * She spilled the basket of wet toys which scattered across the bathroom floor * By the end of the day she looked like she had never even taken a bath *
What I will remember about this picture:
The way we both burst into laughter when I came around the corner and saw her wearing those lopsided goggles* The little song she made up about the turtle and the fireman * How she kissed the palm of my hand when I was drying her off * How perfect her head smells after a bath* The way I chased her around the house yelling, “Ahh! Naked baby! Pinch the buns!”, and the way she squealed and laughed until she gave herself the hiccups.
I realize that there is a disconnect between what I know and what I remember. I am not a historian dictating facts for future generations. I’m a mother. Everyday I try to leave behind yesterday’s frustrations, mistakes, regrets, and tiredness, while at the same time holding onto the things that give me hope; that make me smile.
So here’s to fact and fond memories, and this beautiful life that is held perfectly in tension between the two.