They say your life changes when you have a child. Well, I’m about 14 weeks along in this journey they call pregnancy and I’m here to tell you people — my life has already changed.
You see, around the time I “conceived” I started to worry about my bubble bath addiction. (For those of you who are new to Fancy House Road, let’s just say, everyone in our family takes a nightly bubble bath.) “Is it safe to take baths?” — I worried. “Will the heat kill my baby?” — I stressed. “If baths are dangerous, I don’t think I can go 9+ months without, is it too late to adopt?” — I thought. I’m serious. I don’t think I could give up baths for a baby. Does that make me a bad person?
By week 5 of pregnancy, I had read enough material to make the decision that baths were safe. Just as long as I didn’t raise my internal body temperature too much. So, I decided I would start keeping the temperature of my bath water lower than 100 degrees.
Good solution, right? Well, there is a bad side to this good solution. The bad side? Dallan.
I had a momentary lapse of judgement. I blabbed about this concern to Dallan. You see, I couldn’t blab to friends or family about my little “problem” because Dallan and I were trying to keep this whole “child” thing hush-hush. About a week after I told Dallan about my 100 degrees or less solution, I spotted a new gadget hiding in my “bath basket” — yes, I have enough bath bubbles, epsom salts, and bath foam to warrant a “bath basket”.
The new gadget? My cooking thermometer.
Apparently, Dallan started measuring the temperature of my bath water when I wasn’t around. He didn’t trust that I would not, in his words, “boil our baby”. Now, when I take my nightly bath, I feel like I’m being judged. I mean, heaven forbid I go hotter than 100 degrees on my bath water now. If I do, I’m guilted into feeling bad.
Proof my life has already changed.
Note to self, purchase a new cooking thermometer.