The Moose asks to play with bubbles. A lot. When we are inside. When we are outside. In the bathtub. Whenever he sees anything remotely shaped like a bubble. You get my drift.
Lucky for him, I "get" it. I loved bubbles as a child, too. My mom indulged my sister and me with all kinds of large or fantastical bubble wands over the years. And I already started stocking up on some interesting bubble blowers as I ran across them over the summer.
Playing with bubbles with the Moose has been a delightful return to childhood for me. But more than being a fun throwback, I have discovered that blowing bubbles is incredibly therapeutic. In order to make quality bubbles, one has to start with a deep breath and continue with a slow, controlled exhale. Without intending to, one enters into a pattern of yogic or meditative-like breathing. The heartrate slows. The temper (not that I ever have one, of course!) calms.
I'm sure there is a physiological and neurochemical explanation for this process. All I know is that, as the end of the day, when the Moose (like most other two-year-olds) is not at his Mr. Congeniality best, I look forward to bubbles at bathtime. The water play calms him and the bubbles never fail to bring out his giggles, and I get to (have to!) take a deep breath even if it's been one of those days that I can't step away for even a minute. And it's probably way better for me than a traditional happy hour!
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