Today was messy. Trying to leave the house this morning took three outfits between the two of us. First Max spit up on my sweater. Then he spit up on himself. Then, after I got him all bundled up he pooped all over his onesie. And now it’s hard to imagine that 15 minutes ago this sleeping angel was screaming so hard I thought the neighbors would call DCS on me. At least I know he’s hydrated because there were definitely some tears tonight. Add to that the fact that whenever I’m feeding Max and he breaks his latch I spray his whole face with milk. It’s out of control. Like I told my dear friend Clarissa, I’m like a FemmeBot, but with milk.
1 comment:
He probably just needs his sunglasses.
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