Saturday, June 27, 2009

Caution: Automatic Sprinkler

This onesy speaks the truth. Beware the sprinkler. Or the fire-hose. Or the pee-pee. Take your pick. At seven months, changing this little guy's diaper can still be an adventure, as Randy found out the other day when he came face to face, so to speak, with the force of this kid's, um, nature. The next day I had to dress Wes in this outfit . . . for dramatic irony. I'm not sure if Randy found it quite as funny as I did.

Not that I haven't had bountiful experience with potty-related mishaps. The first night we were home from the hospital this exhausted mom--after being up with a feeding infant all night--brought said infant out to her mom looking like this nightmare:
Yes, that is projectile poop down the front of me. If I remember correctly, I think there also was some pee mixed in there. Now, please be kind. Remember that I had given birth just a few days earlier, that this awful pink tent nursing gown was three sizes too big (thank you Motherhood Maternity no-return policy) and I was in a lot of pain from my recent surgery. I'm not sure a shower ever felt so necessary or so darn good after that picture was taken.

It's a good thing these little ones are so cute--and bring so much joy into our lives. I feel like Wes has always been a part of our family, and it is amazing to watch him grow into this phenomenal little guy.

By the way, he has a few new tricks as well:

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