So this morning, I dress my baby daughter in an outfit.
It’s a tad too tight. She’s growing, the chubby gal.
I take off the tight outfit and put another one on her. Being the only member of the family who has blue eyes (where DID those come from?), I dress her in her brother’s hand-me-down blue clothes for the special effect of her eye colour.
Then I nurse her.
Squirms around until mommy figures out that she is uncomfortable because she pooped herself.
I change her.
I realize there is poop all the way up her back to her neck.
I take off her clothes.
I give her a bath.
I dress her in a new outfit.
I nurse her again.
We do the little burpie thing, she scrunches up her face, and you know what happens…she pukes up half her milk.
Her outfit is all wet. Wet enough to warrant yet another change in clothes.
It is only lunchtime. How many more changes of outfits will she go through today?
Is this a sign of things to come?
We cannot have this. We have practically no closet space already. If she’s going to need an extensive wardrobe, then we’ll have to move into a McMansion in suburbia.