Guess which asshole didn’t know that a baby being in a wet diaper causes diaper rash?

Yeah.

When she started sleeping through the night, I noticed that in the morning her butt would be a little red but by the time she had a bath that night it was okay. It wasn’t like red and weepy or so bad that she acted like it hurt. Just a different color. I thought it was from being on her back all night.

And then, a couple of mornings ago, I opened her morning diaper and it smelled weird. When consulting Dr. Google, I realized that it was ammonia and her butt was getting chapped from it. I was letting my baby marinate in her own juices while she slept. The reason Sweety didn’t know this was happening – he didn’t see the morning diapers because I change those and by the time he’d see Bean later in the day, her butt looked okay.

I started putting more padding in her night time diaper and no red butt since then.

Say it with me…I. Am. Sofa. King. Stew. Ped. I’m glad it didn’t get crazy out of hand. After I figured out what was going on I cruised the internet looking a photos of diaper rash. Holy shit. That looks so freaking painful.

I went back to work on Thursday and so far, so good. Bean goes over to the neighbor’s house and I go to work. Sweety picks her up when he gets off of work. It seems that Bean doesn’t like to sleep or nap at all for Sweety and she’s been tired as all get out when I arrive home. The past two nights – I feed her as soon as I get home, she falls asleep, Sweety takes a shower with her (she actually slept through the shower last night), I feed her again, she passes out again and sleeps until 7 the next morning.

I’m figuring out how to tote Bean around in a sling! A couple of friends sent some to me to try out and I am LOVING it! It is so nice to be able to have Bean all snuggled up beside me not crying while I do things around the house. Who am I kidding? I also like having her close enough to sniff her head whenever I feel like it without my arms being cramped up from holding her all of the time. I wish I’d started this sooner but I was afraid that I would whack her head into a wall or the oven or something when she was smaller. Since she’s bigger now and her head isn’t wobbly, I figured she can withstand an accidental whacking. And it seems that I’m less clumsy with her than I thought I’d be.

The Bean has discovered her thumb! I think it’s cute as hell and as a mostly reformed thumbsucker, I know how soothing it is and I’ll be damned if I’m going to take that away from her. My teeth are fine (no braces needed here). If Bean gets her teeth from Sweety’s side of the family, she’s going to need braces no matter what so I’m not going to freak out over thumbsucking. We’ve offered her pacifiers and she spits them out. At least with the thumb, I’ll never need to turn the house upside down looking for one to keep her happy. Here she is chowing down on the thumb.

We went to Magic Kingdom last weekend! This was Bean’s second trip to the park. The first one wasn’t planned out very well and we didn’t stay very long. It was a learning lesson on how to do it the second time. I have got to give Sweety credit for being so very helpful whenever it was time to feed Bean. The first time we went to the park, he kind of freaked out when I got ready to flip a tit out and feed her because I was pretty awkward with the whole thing and I ended up feeding her in the bathroom while the toilet automatically flushed underneath me every 90 seconds. This time he was very handy and actually suggested that I feed her in a couple of the attractions we went in where you were sitting down for awhile. There were no feedings while a toilet flushed under me on this trip. That was nice.

She’s been working on her standing.

We’ve decided that she’s going to skip crawling and just hit the ground running. Like a baby Forrest Gump.

Oh, people…my brain is fried. I am so damned forgetful! I took Sylvie to the Post Office on Wednesday to apply for her passport. There was no ink pen available when I got inside and started to fill out all of the paperwork so I went to my truck to get one. I’d taken the truck’s key off of the key ring and had it alone in my pocket.

Later on as we’re standing in line, I panic because I can’t find the key. I realized with dread in my belly that I left it laying on the seat in the truck. I sent Sylvie out to see if I happened to leave the truck unlocked and of course it was locked.

I called Sweety and asked if he would come unlock the door for me. He did. He came into the Post Office carrying my whole key ring that was on the floorboard and I told him that the key I needed was off of the ring and it must have fallen into the seat or something. He went back out to search for the key. He was gone for quite awhile and I started worrying that he couldn’t find it.

I decided to root through my pockets one more time and found the key in my back pocket. I quickly put it back on the key ring. I called Sweety and told him to quit looking in the truck because it had been on the key ring and that I’d just overlooked it. I didn’t tell him that it was in my back pocket and he will only know that if he happens to read this far. Ahem.

I wonder what she’s going to sound like.

What do you mean?

Her voice. I wonder what kind of voice she’ll have. I hope it’s not annoying.

Oh, no. She’ll sound musical. Not all whiny and shit. God, no. Not whiny.

Hell, no! I’d have to give her a tracheotomy and a voice box buzzer thingy. I need to go to medical school!

At this point I put my hand up to my throat and robotically said, “Hello, daddy!”. Sweety spit his soda out and said that I won at being disturbing for the day.

Go, me.

I’m hoping that I’m one of those people who likes to work and have a family. I can’t personally name any off the top of my head but I swear – I’ve heard some women say that they needed to go right back to work after having a baby because they didn’t like being at home.

Right now I don’t feel that way but maybe I will get to work and go, “Damn, I am so glad to be here!” I hope so.

The main thing I’m sad about it not being with Bean during the day. I love playing with her and feeding her and all of that good stuff. Sniffing her…Man, I love to sniff her and stare at her. I’d like to put her in a giant paper sack and huff her.

I’m also worried about what I’ll be coming home to every day. Being home, I’ve kind of been able to keep the house from looking like a pig sty and keep everyone in order. I’m imagining coming home at 8 p.m. to a crying baby, a wreck of a house, dirty dishes everywhere, homework to help with and a stressed out Sweety. He has done nothing to indicate that this is how things will be but we’ve never had a tiny human to tend to.

I’m also worried that I’m not going to be able to pump enough milk during the day to feed her. I have been hoarding milk the past week or so to give me a headstart. Of course, my tits have done nothing to indicate that they might not put out but I like to worry.

I’m also concerned that a tiny asteroid will hit the neighbor’s house while I’m at work and annihilate Bean. (Just kidding. I think.)

To get me and Bean used to being separated, this week I’ve been taking her over to the neighbor’s house for a few hours in the morning and even though I don’t go back to work until next Thursday, the plan is to take her over there all day on Monday and Tuesday as a dry run. Sweety thinks I am going to lose my shit the first day that I’m away from her and thinks I’d prefer to do it alone instead of at work. He told me to, “Go watch a movie..visit someone…out to eat…whatever and come home at 8 p.m.” I will need to find a suitable place to do these things where I can plug in a breast pump. Maybe I’ll just hide in the bedroom and not come out until 8 p.m.

This is a sign that Oliver is not the same psychotic dog we rescued from the shelter two years ago. He is a broken man. But, a very good boy.

In his eyes I think I see a silent plea for help.

It really does have five toes even though you can’t see them. She was also busy fist-pumping like she belongs on Jersey Shore.

Bean is a Fidgeter Extraordinaire. Sometimes her arms and legs are windmilling so fast that I think she’s going to launch like a hummingbird. When she’s eating and tired, she will kick the hell out of her legs. She’ll kick so much that she almost squirms off of the Milk Bar. The other night I did her a favor and held her foot and wiggled it for her while she ate. She promptly passed out.

Speaking of passing out!

She’s started really sleeping through the night! *knock on wood* The past two nights she’s been tucked into bed by 10 or so and slept right through until 7 or 8 the next morning! The first night, I woke up around 4 because my boobs were full of milk and hurting so while I pumped milk (I’m building up the stockpile for when I go back to work.) I cried because she’s growing so fast. The second night I didn’t cry but I laid awake after pumping and listened to her sleep.

I think she’s going to have Sweety’s sleep habits. She talks to herself a lot on top of being twitchy.

Sweety lost his damned mind the other night. I thought he was awake when he said, “You know what? You’re a dick.” I asked why, thinking it was because I was sitting in the bed while playing with my phone and the light was disturbing him. “You just are. And you know what? I’m going to TALK REALLY LOUD AND WAKE THE BABY UP! GUESS WHO WON’T HAVE TO GET UP AND TAKE CARE OF HER? NOT ME!” I told him that I would punch him in his jug head on my way to pick her up if he woke her and he shut up. The next morning when I said something to him I could tell that he felt bad and he kept apologizing. I told him that it was okay, that I really thought he was awake. So, how fucked up is it that I thought he was awake being a giant asshole and didn’t blink an eye at it? He’s been super great in helping me with the baby and I thought that maybe he’d just reached his limit or something.

Night before last, I was playing on my phone in the dark when he pipes up with, “Suck my dick and punch me in the face.” I asked him to repeat himself and he did. (For the record, I did not and I did not.) One night he woke up while eating a bowl of cereal and last night he got up and gorged on Oreos – he later woke up choking on Oreo puke. I’m going to start tying him to the bed.

As you may (or may not) know, we like to give things voices around here. The dogs all have their own voices and talk to us regularly. Even Chi Chi. Due to her freeze-dried nature, her voice is rather raspy. Like she’s been smoking for 50 years. Having a voice naturally extends to Bean. We talk for her and sometimes even wobble her bottom jaw to enhance her “speaking” abilities.

Now people, we are some sick fuckers here. Most humor is highly inappropriate and totally tasteless. This was no exception.

I swing around to see Bean sitting in the crook of Sweety’s arm and she is grasping in her right hand an untwisted coathanger.

Hey, baby! What are you doing?!

I wanted to show you this.

What is that?

When I was inside of you there was a sister with me but I evicted her with this coathanger.

At that point, all I could do was turn around and carefully inspect the sink faucet because sometimes I run out of words and this was one of those times. Sweety is cackling his ass off because if one of us can render the other speechless then something has been accomplished.

I finally found some words.

Dude. The first time I really see my baby hold something? It’s a fucking twisted coathanger and she’s making a joke about aborting her roommate? Damn. Just…damn.

And then I couldn’t help it – I laughed.