I just went to Target with a cloth diaper shoved in my bra. Because my milk- you know– the drug filled stuff that I can’t actually use- won’t go away. And I had to go buy a different kind of evil poison formula because the baby decided at about 3 am yesterday that he no longer approves of what we had been using. And, no, I don’t have nursing pads, because you don’t need them if you aren’t nursing, right?
Last night, I went to change a diaper and in the two seconds between one diaper coming off and one going on he managed to shoot poop several feet, covering me from about the waist down.
And, sleep… well. You know.
But despite all this, I’m Happy. Content even. I dont know if its age, or circumstance or what, but I’m enjoying this baby much more than ever before.
Even the dog can’t resist that new baby smell.