There’s something wonderful about baby’s bath time.  It’s an opportunity to wash away the evidence of a long day of hunting dust bunnies under the couch and dodging discarded baby food.  It is a most forgiving play pen – the only place where splashing is not only permitted, but mandatory, and where being messy is actually an act of cleaning.  It is a warm release on a cold winter’s night and a cool change after a blazing summer’s day.  It is a fond privilege of childhood that is too quickly replaced by its poor, Grinch-like cousin, the 3 minute shower.

While bath time may be all of these things, I have come to realise that bath time is precious for one more important reason.  As the harbinger of ‘sleep time’, it signals the end of ‘baby time’ and the start of ‘parent time’! No wonder everyone loves bath time…

Bath time is probably Winston’s favourite time of the day. He hasn’t actually told me that. I’m just making an educated guess here because he squeals with delight when he sees his ever expanding collection of bath toys and beams when he’s in the bath. So you can imagine his excitement when he recently received a collection of bath toys from Boon.

We were sent these ecostore products recently. I wish I’d heard about ecostore earlier! There are no nasty chemicals hidden within these recycled and recyclable bottles. Even their hashtag is #onlygoodstuff. The bath products are plant-based so they smell natural and not nauseating. Check out ecostore if you’ve not yet a convert.

I am not very fond of clutter these days, so this “Frog Pod” bath storage unit has been a game-changer! I highly recommend this clever invention by boon. The back of the frog comes apart to scoop up all the bath boys, whilst water drains and the toys are stored safe in its back. It saves so much time! No wonder they say that “you’re gonna want to kiss this frog”. And for once you wouldn’t want it to turn into a prince!

Although my first year of motherhood has not always been smooth sailing, the memories of bubby-in-the-bath are always joyous ones. It turns out that I don’t mind being his personal loofah and lifeguard as long as it gives me an opportunity to see him delight in the simple wonder of the experience, and gives him the opportunity to thoroughly tire himself out so he can sleep soundly and peacefully through the night (Ha! A girl can dream can’t she? Although at the rate we’re going it might have to be a daydream).