Bringing the grunge look back

My blue jeans have cat toothpaste, infant toothpaste, and infant Tylenol on them. Not to mention spit-up. Because they always have spit-up on them. Spit-up has become invisible to me due to its omnipresence in my life. And yet I have not deemed them dirty enough to wash as yet. Huh.

Paging Donna Reed

I am amazed that I have some vestigial, 1950s housewife-type instinct that makes me feel guilty when I see that my husband has holes in his socks. I should have darned them! Except I don’t even know what darning is! Is it as fun as saying the word “darn”? Or its naughtier counterpart?

DARN that sock for making me feel guilty. OK, now I feel better.

This little piggy went to … whoa!

I have a lot of experience with kids. I took care of my two older nieces, now ages 17 and 14, for a whole summer, everyday, when they were four and two. I worked in a daycare two years later and took care of twelve two-year-olds by myself. I also babysat throughout middle school and some of high school.

And yet, there are still weird, random things that surprise me about motherhood. I have held many babies. However, I have never held any while wearing nursing clothes. Until now. Consequently, I had no idea that my son would constantly stick his foot down the front of my shirts and, upon occasion, wiggle his little piggies into my nursing bra and tickle my right boob with his left foot. Why do none of the books mention boob-tickling??

I am so tired of …

tripping over cats and shoes. At least I don’t feel guilty when I trip over the shoes, though. No one cares when they inadvertently kick shoes, even if it is the shoes’ fault, since they have a better view of everything and could ostensibly avoid my feet.

Is it weird

that I find it oddly soothing to pick loose hair off of my clothes?

Random quote for the day

“Baby clothes keep falling out of my clothes.”

– Spoken to my husband as I attempted to get ready for postnatal yoga this morning

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