The first week (or two) at home with Chipmunk was a learning experience to say the least.
I was pooped on and pee'd on... And so were my sofas.
Of course, my parents' and husband's explanations for these mishaps were that I moved too slow when changing his diaper. Needless to say, I got HELLA offended by their rationales because, unlike my husband, I didn't get all that hands-on training in the hospital because I was laid up after having had my abdomen sliced and pried open AND I was tripping from the pain medicine (which was later changed after realizing it was making me loopy and hot as hell).
Well, now...
I can change a poopy diaper... At 2:00am... In the dark... Without so much as a whimper from my baby...
Because I do it in NASCAR pit stop speed!
The only thing I have to do now is learn how to get him to go back to sleep because he has now sucked down another three ounces of milk, is climbing up my torso, and staring me in the face.
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