Bubble bath... failure

So, I can remember the day, way back ... before kids... when I'd take a bubble bath maybe a few times a week. I'd take a magazine and read it cover to cover, or maybe light some candles and just sit in the tub as the smell of the lavender aromatherapy crystals overcome me in my dark sanctuary.  

Yeah... not so much anymore.

Tonight after we (thought) we got the twins to bed and Matthew took Brayden downstairs, I attemped to take my first bubble bath in probably, oh I'm guessing about 9 months.

After washing away the dust from the tub, I filled it all the way with hot water and "mimosa" scent bubble bath. Oh man this is going to feel good. I need this. Mia has been screaming nonstop day and night pretty much since she emerged from the womb last year.

I step in. Ahhh. Nice and hot.

Man I need to shave my legs...

Ok after washing my face I lean against the tub. My back cracks.. again it cracks. It sounds like someone just put an ice cube in a cup of boiling water.

I close my eyes... and hear ... what else?... crying.

I tell myself, 'this is your alone time, let him take care of the kids.'

I sink lower. I try and relax, and swish what are left of the bubbles around the tub. My feet are dirty from chasing the girls - and the dog - in the grass earlier.

Crying.

I tap on the tub, knowing that below me is the kitchen, and surely someone will hear that and know either I need something or he should come upstairs.

Crying.

Doesn't he know they are in side-by-side cribs, and one can wake the other!?

I pound my foot on the bottom of the tub. Everything jiggles and I'm not talking about the bubbles, which pretty much have evaporated now anyway. Man I need to workout.

Crying.

Well, crap.

I get out of the tub and run down the hall, dripping in a towel.

Surprisingly Mia is sleeping despite Téa sitting up howling for attention. I attempt to calm her with her paci -- she probably doesn't feel well because she had a temperature of 101 earlier. Put her back in the crib, but she's still whimpering and squirming. I'm dripping on her.

I pick her back up, walk her to the pack and play in the guest room before she wakes up The Bad One.

Too bad I never enjoyed it.

Swaying with her, my towel drops and now the air vent is blowing cold air up my naked butt and I'm freezing. I lay her down, grab my towel and sneak out.

I go halfway down the stairs to "softly yell" at someone watching tv, "CAN'T YOU HEAR HER CRYING, I'M TRYING TO TAKE A BATH!"

Someone tells me he didn't hear because he was wiping a little someone's butt downstairs.

I go back upstairs and dip back into my tub, which is now tepid and not even remotely warm at this point.

Damnit I'm going to take a bath.

Wash my hair in the coldish water. Damn I need to shave my legs, bad.

Crying.

Try and pretend that I'm having a nice bath, but I'm wondering just how many minutes have to pass before it's worth it -- putting all this water in here for the sake of 'relaxation.'

Whimpering.

The bath water is now visibly dirty and cold. I may as well be bathing in the Ohio River right now.

I pick up the razor. I do a couple lines. Dang is this razor dull.. or are my legs... errr..

Cries and whimpering.

So I'm sure you know what happens at this point.

The kids come first. I guess they always will, right? This silly 'bathtime indulgence' of the past will probably never happen again - at least not any more frequently than 9 months at a time.

I guess that's ok right now. I can live with 45 second showers (literally that's all I have time for some days).

Oh... it's about seven minutes. That is the approximate time lapse of submersion in the tub where it has been worth it and you can drain the cold, dirty water without feeling like you wasted a good $15 of the Boone County Water District's reserves.

And yes, I still need to shave my legs.