Behold.
The child and I have returned from the cornfields unharmed.
Well she is unharmed I have a wicked cough and a temperature.
Baby cemented her status of Propaganda Baby (the baby that convinces you that babies are not too much work and OH SO adorable and wouldn't you like to have one/another one?) by making about three peeps on all four flights. And while I earned my parenting merit badge by changing four poopie diapers in the air (including a blow out) she was really about as perfect as she can be.
In the days to come you will read about my first brush with disposable diapers (I am an idiot!), how even the perfect baby cannot handle that many people in a house that is like an oven and how I have a job interview tomorrow (WTF?!?! What do I wear? What the hell am I doing? Is it wrong to go with an ugly cough?).
But for now I am going to lay in my own bed and cry.
2 comments:
Welcome back! We missed you.
I think I have been very very very lucky. We haven't yet had to change a poopy diaper on a plane, much less a blow out one.
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