The dreaded questions...

There are two questions I am asked repeatedly when I am out and about town with my baby...

1.  Is he a good baby?

2.  Does he sleep through the night?

Whenever I run into someone I know it's almost a guarantee that I will be asked at least one of these questions if not both.  I was just at the dentist today---the hygienist asked me both questions and then the dentist came in and he also asked me both!  Then I went to the grocery store and ran into two people I knew and they both asked the "good baby" question.

I often pause when people ask "Is he a good baby".  What do people expect you to say?  I can imagine their face when I say "Actually, he's a horrible, horrible baby."  Of course no mother is going to say that (although some days I think it--and don't judge me--you know you all have thought it too!)  I just often wonder what qualifications are needed to be a "good baby"?  I really don't think such a thing exists.

The second question just irritates me. No, he does not sleep through the night.  But thanks for asking and reminding me of this and the fact that I have not slept a full night in 3 months and don't expect to for a long time.  Those people whose kids were sleeping through the night at 2, 4, 6, or even 8 weeks---good for you (and I hate you--just kidding.  Actually, I'm not).

If you read this blog, and I see you out and about and you ask me one of these questions, I will forgive you.  I know they are just common questions that people ask.  I probably did it too before I had my own child. 

All joking aside, my sweet baby boy turned 3 months old today.  Where has the time gone?  He brings me such joy.  His smile lights up a room.  I can't imagine my life without him.  God is good!  And he really truly is a "good baby"...most days.

P.S.--All this "Royal Baby" talk today is making me sick.  Anyone else agree?

Do HazMat suits come in hot pink?

I'll admit it...when I found out I was pregnant, I really really really hoped for a girl. When we found out it was a boy, I was a little crushed but ready for the challenge. 

You may ask--why a challenge?

I come from a family of all girls.  I have two sisters.  My aunt that I am really close to has three girls.  My little sister was born when I was in 5th grade, and I babysat her ALOT.  So I guess you could say I am more comfortable around girls.

But once my son was born, I learned rather quickly to get used to the male gender.  And the most obvious difference is that darn penis.  When I first opened his diaper in the hospital to change it, I was a little shocked.  I honestly had never changed a boy diaper.  I thought to myself---what the heck do I do with that thing? 

I had heard these stories of people getting peed on while changing a diaper (especially with boys) so I was super careful when we first got home and was changing his diaper.  I had a new diaper ready under him before I opened the dirty diaper (a helpful hint from my good friend, Kim!) and was ready to do the fast switcher-roo.  To my surprise it really wasn't that hard.  I think I got a little too cocky because one night while changing a 2:00 AM diaper while half asleep I felt a spray all over me--WONDERFUL. 

I will never forget my first Mother's Day for as long as a live.  My husband went to change Landyn's diaper and all of a sudden I heard him yell "Help me!"  I go into the nursery and there is pee everywhere.  We get the mess cleaned up, feed the baby, and my husband goes to change him again.  Now you'd think he would have learned his lesson from the previous diaper change 30 minutes earlier.  Nope!  I hear him yelling for help again and go in there and there is pee everywhere again!  This time when we picked Landyn up, he literally was lying in a puddle of pee.  To the bathtub he went for a bath!  We were laughing so hard we were crying.

Today we had quite the episode at our house.  My husband was feeding Landyn and all of a sudden I heard a loud noise followed by my husband busting out laughing.  I asked my husband if it was a burp and he said it was a fart.  Well it was more than a fart because he looked down at his hand and saw that it was full of poop that was coming up the back of the diaper and up Landyn's back and through his clothes.  So I take him into his room to attempt to get the poop clothes off.  Once we got them off, I left him there with my husband to get some washcloths to clean him up.  Of course, we never thought---get a new diaper on him NOW.  We left him lying there without one on and suddenly I hear my husband yelling.  This by far was the worst pee spray he's done so far.  It was all over the wall, on the wall hanging his auntie made him, all over his baskets on his changing table that are filled with diapers and wipes, all over his legs, changing mat cover, and changing table.  Unbelievable.  This soon turned into a 30 minute-clean-up-the-baby ordeal.

I don't know if I'm ready for the next 18 years of raising a boy but I'm sure I'll manage.  I've already decided it's my husband's job to deal with any "penis-related" things in the future.  I think that is only fair.  He can teach him how to scratch himself and pee in the woods and all those "boy" things.

And I have come to the conclusion that I need to wear a HazMat suit when changing the baby--do you think they come in hot pink?  It's my favorite color.