Tuesday, September 29, 2009
But how do you get the milk onto the diaper rash? I haven't pumped in ages. There was no way I could even locate each pump piece if my life depended on it. The website suggested frozen breast milk (we didn't have any) or to hand express the milk into a cup, using a syringe to squirt it on the rash. That seemed like a ton of work, and who just has a syringe laying around? I didn't think I would really need that much, and besides, I have good aim...
With Mads half naked on the changing table, I pulled out boob B and started squirting. I'm leaning over to better control the spray when I see Jeffrey in the door way. I thought maybe he had broken his neck, I've never seen it snap that hard.
"What the hell are you doing??"
Now, I can imagine it was an odd sight to witness. It's not everyday you see your better half spraying milk all over your naked baby's bottom. I still don't think it deserved a "what the hell," but...
"It's just a diaper rash."
::Neck snap number two::
"What the-the-t are you doing??"
He's stuttering by now. That was when I became a little agitated. Jeffrey was looking at me like I had morphed from loving Mommy into a one eyed, one horned, flying purple baby-eater. Could he not see that I was simply playing Medicine Woman in the nursery? Yes, it probably looked a little strange to see my breast dangling over my child's private area, but let's be real here. After explaining to Jeffrey the top ten uses for breast milk (while still cupping breast B with hand B and holding Mads still with hand A), he moved closer to get a better view of the healing process. With Jeffrey's guidance (you're dribbling on her thigh, that's better, to the left, what's wrong with that lazy duct?) we managed to get the job done.
Embarrassing. That was yesterday. Today, diaper rash is gone. Fuck you, Desitin.
Monday, September 28, 2009
That's a fairly functional piece of furniture if you ask me. Next week, a couch!
Apparently Jimmy's Mommy loathes Mickey Mouse. ;)
Hi, Pappy Jim!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
(see the determination in her stance and written all over her beautiful face?)
to have a ball until summer is really over:
Get it? Have a ball? Haha.
*Hey, Megan! That's what you get for making my kid look like a bully in your blog. Psh.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Madelynn's vocabulary, along with the fact that she understands what she's saying shocks me hourly (quarter-hourly even). Wanna go see the ducks, Madelynn? For answer, see above. This is all while she's hunting down her shoes and attempting to put them on herself. How did this happen? How in the world does she know that she needs to find her shoes before we can go bye? Why would she even consider such a thing? She's a baby! Correction, she is a toddler. It's sad and exciting, all at the same time. Who knew motherhood could bring on such conflicting emotions nearly every 30 seconds of every day? They really do grow up so fast.
End sob story. So anyways, armed with a whole bag of hot-dog rolls (which had been in my freezer since... the beginning of time at least), we went to see the ducks today (and we wore shooz). It was an action-packed park fest for sure.
After naming all of the ducks (one was named Duk!, while the others were named either Duk? or Ber [that's "bird" in case you didn't get it]), I cut Mads loose, giving her free range of the entire park. No stone was left unturned. No mountain was too big:
No bridge was too long:
None of the swings went high enough (we tried them all, twice):
She crossed treacherous waters:
And even found some time to stop and smell the flowers:
I'll give you this, Toddlerhood. You definitely keep me on my toes.
I have a beautiful life, made brighter every day by toddler kisses and belly button hunts. Motherhood may be a total mind-fuck, but the reward is priceless.
Jeffrey was appalled. :)
Friday, September 18, 2009
Pinky the Pig is filled almost to capacity with laundry money.