This is what happens when...
I will start this post with an apology for any misspellings or weird spacing issues, I'm typing this with Connor in my lap because he was declaring very loudly for everyone to hear that it was time to be picked up and that he's got the lung capacity to endure a lengthy stand off, and my ears were intimidated into submission..
It's entirely possible I'm inclined to just forget the messier parts of my life, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word, not in an allusion to drama (you never forget the drama, it haunts you till the day you die even if it's so over, like I'll pretty much never be able to forget the time I drank too much and hid in the laundry room all night because I thought people were plotting against me, or the time I had a few too many and got a little dramatic at the river walk on vacation and started blowing my moms phone up because it was imperative that I speak to my child so I knew she was still alive... you get the idea... it'd be lovely if I could forget those though haha..) kind of meaning, I mean the parts where I got barfed on, pooped on, barfed on some more... you get the idea. Not surprisingly a solid 50% of these occurrences had to have happened when Mackenzie was Connor sized. The thing is I don't remember her barfing on me half as much during the entire first year of her life as this boy has in the last 3 months. Did I just block out that part? I don't think so... I pretty avidly remember the time she had something sweet for the first time and barfed for days afterwards which could have been a coincidence but we are thus convinced it explains her aversion to sweets to this day. Kid won't eat them. Which is really just a win for us actually, no complaint here. And I definitely remember the time she leaned forward in the bathtub and proceeded to poop in the water. I mean I remember stuff. And on the spit up front, Mackenzie has a fairly clean record (ha spit up, clean... see what I did there?). I've tried bringing it up to his pediatrician and she seems to think that it's just heartburn and put him on something that should be helping cut back on that but you know... he's still definitely barfing up like a champ. Like, I'm scared to put on clean clothes because I feel like that triggers him to do it even more. OOOO those smell good , feel soft too** HA! not anymore! I realize babies just spit up, that's part of the whole package but I mean this kid has a serious vendetta against my wardrobe. And he likes to single me out! He hardly ever throws up on Mike. Although I did almost get him to barf on "black dog" once. *confession - I may have been chasing her around the house with him, barfer pointed straight ahead, chanting "yeaaahhhh get the black dog!!" .. I'm not sorry*
In other news. Connor survived his first Thanksgiving incredibly well. He was such a champ (also drove home the notion that I should start throwing in an extra shirt for myself in his diaper bag... He ruins mine long before his own...) but he didn't make it through second dinner awake. Wouldn't so much as bat an eyelash, lil' dude was done. We did however have a rousing game of uno with Mackenzie and some of my family. It made me nostalgic for the days of old, I've always had a weakness for card games and board games (almost as much as video games... almost.).
So now my big goals for the day are to get the house cleaned up and looking fabulous for my brothers trip up here to see us WITH THE GIRLS! I'm so excited. It will be my first time meeting my nieces! I can't wait. They've already met Mackenzie though so hopefully they'll see her and feel better about being out in the middle of nowhere at the house lol. We are also doing a mini christmas while they're here which means I need to get Mike motivated to go get some Christmas presents in the crazy Christmas shopping season madness. It's so wierd to not be able to buy gifts myself. I've had some pretty tight Christmases in the past for sure, but I've never just had absolutely no money of my own to contribute. It's .... scary. And nerve wracking. Sigh. But let us not dwell on fear, let us focus on ... positivity. And clean shirts. Which this one is no longer. Which shall be my exit cue. Someday I will smell like a normal stinky human being again instead of a sour milk and poopy stinky human being. In like a year or so. Maybe 2.
It's entirely possible I'm inclined to just forget the messier parts of my life, and I mean that in the truest sense of the word, not in an allusion to drama (you never forget the drama, it haunts you till the day you die even if it's so over, like I'll pretty much never be able to forget the time I drank too much and hid in the laundry room all night because I thought people were plotting against me, or the time I had a few too many and got a little dramatic at the river walk on vacation and started blowing my moms phone up because it was imperative that I speak to my child so I knew she was still alive... you get the idea... it'd be lovely if I could forget those though haha..) kind of meaning, I mean the parts where I got barfed on, pooped on, barfed on some more... you get the idea. Not surprisingly a solid 50% of these occurrences had to have happened when Mackenzie was Connor sized. The thing is I don't remember her barfing on me half as much during the entire first year of her life as this boy has in the last 3 months. Did I just block out that part? I don't think so... I pretty avidly remember the time she had something sweet for the first time and barfed for days afterwards which could have been a coincidence but we are thus convinced it explains her aversion to sweets to this day. Kid won't eat them. Which is really just a win for us actually, no complaint here. And I definitely remember the time she leaned forward in the bathtub and proceeded to poop in the water. I mean I remember stuff. And on the spit up front, Mackenzie has a fairly clean record (ha spit up, clean... see what I did there?). I've tried bringing it up to his pediatrician and she seems to think that it's just heartburn and put him on something that should be helping cut back on that but you know... he's still definitely barfing up like a champ. Like, I'm scared to put on clean clothes because I feel like that triggers him to do it even more. OOOO those smell good , feel soft too** HA! not anymore! I realize babies just spit up, that's part of the whole package but I mean this kid has a serious vendetta against my wardrobe. And he likes to single me out! He hardly ever throws up on Mike. Although I did almost get him to barf on "black dog" once. *confession - I may have been chasing her around the house with him, barfer pointed straight ahead, chanting "yeaaahhhh get the black dog!!" .. I'm not sorry*
 |
| This is how he manages to always get forgiveness for all the laundry. Because who could be mad at that? =P |
In other news. Connor survived his first Thanksgiving incredibly well. He was such a champ (also drove home the notion that I should start throwing in an extra shirt for myself in his diaper bag... He ruins mine long before his own...) but he didn't make it through second dinner awake. Wouldn't so much as bat an eyelash, lil' dude was done. We did however have a rousing game of uno with Mackenzie and some of my family. It made me nostalgic for the days of old, I've always had a weakness for card games and board games (almost as much as video games... almost.).
So now my big goals for the day are to get the house cleaned up and looking fabulous for my brothers trip up here to see us WITH THE GIRLS! I'm so excited. It will be my first time meeting my nieces! I can't wait. They've already met Mackenzie though so hopefully they'll see her and feel better about being out in the middle of nowhere at the house lol. We are also doing a mini christmas while they're here which means I need to get Mike motivated to go get some Christmas presents in the crazy Christmas shopping season madness. It's so wierd to not be able to buy gifts myself. I've had some pretty tight Christmases in the past for sure, but I've never just had absolutely no money of my own to contribute. It's .... scary. And nerve wracking. Sigh. But let us not dwell on fear, let us focus on ... positivity. And clean shirts. Which this one is no longer. Which shall be my exit cue. Someday I will smell like a normal stinky human being again instead of a sour milk and poopy stinky human being. In like a year or so. Maybe 2.