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It had been a day. The demanding, whining, limit-pushing kind of day. The counting down until bedtime kind of day. It was about 40 minutes before bedtime, a Netflix marathon of Great British Baking Show dangling right in front of me when I realized our toddler needed a bath.

There was no way we could push it back another night, we had already stretched those limits. I started dreading the task, fully knowing he would fight it. I was low on energy and not sure I could summon the patience needed to pull this off.

I started thinking about how much I needed some self-care, a bubble bath perhaps. After the day I had, I really needed a luxurious way to unwind and reset my mind. Then I looked at my sweet boy, genuinely struggling with his own emotions and burnout, and realized he needed it more.

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You see, he had been fighting a virus that kicked his butt all week. His energy was drained and his emotions high. He didn't know that, eventually, he would feel like himself again, all he knew was at this moment he didn't feel great and it might be like this forever.

Moreover, his teething baby brother was consuming most of my attention and time. His tank was running on empty, and the only way he could express that was through outbursts and tantrums. As the adage goes, he wasn't giving me a hard time, he was having a hard time.

We often meet our children's nasty attitude with reaction rather than empathy. But at that moment I realized my ugliest moments are often met with God's strongest grace. So I decided to give him the spa-worthy bubble bath experience I was longing for so badly because, after all, he needed it, too.

He helped gather all the necessary supplies: a bath bomb, candles, bubbles and a relaxing playlist. We dimmed the lights. I even dug around in his closet for the soft robe he got for Christmas last year. He practiced smelling the bath bomb's fragrance as it disintegrated into the water. It was altogether adorable and a little ridiculous. It was certainly 'extra,' but that's also my little guy, he's as extra as they come.

Eventually, the mellow music was replaced by the Lion King soundtrack and the bubbles were popped with a splashing gusto, but for a few minutes, our guest bathroom was transformed into a luxury spa.

After that bath, wrapped up in his robe and towel twisted atop his head, he smiled and hugged me. We both needed that moment. Now I'm just longing for the chance to take my turn in the at-home luxury spa we created.

Try this: Write down your name and those of your parents and then your children. Then locate each letter of each name on the keyboard and note if it is located on the left or right side (use T, G and B as the middle line).

There should be more left-side letters in yours and your parents' names and more right-side letters in each of your children's names. Weird, huh? That's what some scientists thought, too, so they set out to determine why and discovered a similar pattern across five languages.

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