Turns out my husband is colorblind on occasion.
He comes home from class and remembers he wants to look up the term "purple states," states that have roughly equal amounts of red and blue support politically. The color analogy made perfect sense to me, but dr soc had either forgotten or didn't know red and blue made purple.
Whatever, I rattled off a quick lesson in primary and secondary colors he didn't pay a lick of attention to and I didn't care. Then the baby spit up over my shoulder and onto the couch and that became the more pressing issue. I can see at least four burp clothes in my line of sight, though none of them are within grabbing distance.
So my husband grabs my hair and starts to wiping up the spit up with that.
me: What are you doing? My hair is not a towel!
dr soc: Oh! Oops! Here, use this. ~tosses a yellow blanket to me~
me: What? That's one of her blankets! There's like 4 burp cloths right in front of me. Grab one of those!
He finds a yellow burp cloth and cleans up the 3 remaining drops of spit up that remain on the couch from my hair clean up.
me: honey, why on earth did you grab my hair?
dr soc: I thought it was the brown blanket (that the dog burrows under) we had on the couch...
Colorblind.
Random thoughts and life doings of a spaz who is being forced to be a grownup against her will.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Blow Out
So I had a baby 4 months ago and dropped off the blog world. Meh, whatever. Maybe I'll go back and tell stories from that time, maybe not (probably not-this parenting thing is busy stuff!)
Anyway, we started my tiny baby on solids last weekend with hopes to make her not-so tiny. Or at the very least tiny but still growing like she should. (Seriously, she's in the 4th and 5th percentile for height and weight. TINY) And by "solids" I mean baby oatmeal (who knew that was a thing?) mixed with breast milk. It's a runny mess and maybe 50% ends up in her tummy, but she gets excited* for it nonetheless.
Since she's having only had breast milk up to this point, introducing solids to her diet (even as liquidy as they are) was bound to mess with her little system some and there would be some adjustment. So the day after her first oatmeal we waited for that dirty diaper. And waited. And waited some more. Eventually it happened, she got more oatmeal and we all moved on.
You know what else adjusting to solids means? Blowing out her diaper. And at the most convenient time of when I'm dropping her of at daycare. Yup. The past 3 times she's gone to daycare since starting solids, she needs an outfit change as I'm about to leave. Her last blowout took some skill because it went halfway up the back of her onesie, yet didn't soak through to her pants so she could still wear them. Her caretakers think outfit changes are her way of keeping mommy around a little longer. Which, given the skills her last blowout took, plotting may be in her wheelhouse too...
*You know who else is excited about baby on solids? The dog. First time baby sat in her highchair the dog was right there under the table at her feet. We're probably never going to have crumbs again.
Anyway, we started my tiny baby on solids last weekend with hopes to make her not-so tiny. Or at the very least tiny but still growing like she should. (Seriously, she's in the 4th and 5th percentile for height and weight. TINY) And by "solids" I mean baby oatmeal (who knew that was a thing?) mixed with breast milk. It's a runny mess and maybe 50% ends up in her tummy, but she gets excited* for it nonetheless.
Since she's having only had breast milk up to this point, introducing solids to her diet (even as liquidy as they are) was bound to mess with her little system some and there would be some adjustment. So the day after her first oatmeal we waited for that dirty diaper. And waited. And waited some more. Eventually it happened, she got more oatmeal and we all moved on.
You know what else adjusting to solids means? Blowing out her diaper. And at the most convenient time of when I'm dropping her of at daycare. Yup. The past 3 times she's gone to daycare since starting solids, she needs an outfit change as I'm about to leave. Her last blowout took some skill because it went halfway up the back of her onesie, yet didn't soak through to her pants so she could still wear them. Her caretakers think outfit changes are her way of keeping mommy around a little longer. Which, given the skills her last blowout took, plotting may be in her wheelhouse too...
*You know who else is excited about baby on solids? The dog. First time baby sat in her highchair the dog was right there under the table at her feet. We're probably never going to have crumbs again.
Labels:
baby,
clothing,
doggie,
family,
food,
health related stuff,
life doings,
parenting
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