Well, at around noon on Friday we left the hospital. Thats a bit of a scary proposition since we no longer have the red call button by the bed to summon a nurse when we have troubles feeding or whatever.
It's been a tag team effort to say the least since we've setup shop at home now. She's the rapper, I'm the DJ, she's the pitcher, I'm the catcher - I'm the Martin to her Lewis. She feeds, I burp, she treats the belly button, I lotion up the head scratch, she dresses, I get the poopy diapers.......
If it sounds like a crappy deal (pun intended), it's not that bad. She likes to throw a warning volley into the diaper to alert you to the pending danger and then once the baby wipe hits the bum: game on!! It's at that point you feel like an army field medic.
"I need a wipe, stat!! Somebody get rid of this blanket! It's getting all over the blanket! More wipes, more wipes!! We can't stop it! Theres just too much!"
In the end we're able to contain most of the damage, but it's a good thing most of our furniture is brown. Just a warning for those of you that come to visit.
I wanna video these episodes because I know for sure Ashtyn is grinning the whole time shes doing it. Yep, she's daddy's little girl!
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