It's official. I'm totes a real mom now. Jack peed in my eye last night while I was giving him a bath. Like, directly in the peepers.
We are trying to put him on a "schedule" so it won't take him 2 hours to go to sleep at night. The bath is part of that ritual. That desperate, mostly failing, nightly ritual.
Is there anything cuter than a clean baby in a hooded towel? Especially with a jealous, snuggly little dog next to him? I think not.
One part of our routine that Jack has nailed down pat is waking up at 7am on the dot. You know, waking back up at the crack of dawn every morning isn't exactly the first step in a routine that I was hoping for, but at least he's consistent in something. And consistently adorable.
That part helps a lot.
As an added bonus to getting peed in the eye, Rosie also threw up grassy liquid all over our bedspread last night.
It's funny. I used to dry heave at baby's dirty diapers. Now Jack's don't phase me.
I used to hate touching dogs except my family's, now my most favorite time of day is snuggling up next to Rosie at night while she scratches her ass next to my pillow.
Times they are a changin'. And my standards are a plumenting.
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