Yeah, a baby lives here.
How can you tell?
Have I shared this picture yet? I don’t think I have. Haha! Bows on his head!
(What, did you think I was going to show you a pile of baby stuff just lying around?)
Just look around at the piles of baby blankets, toys, and other baby accessories. There is the line of bottles waiting to be washed, and the line of bottles that have already been washed. There’s the breast pump waiting on the couch–right next to rocker. There is the changing table in the hallway and the boxes of diapers and wipes on the shelf beneath. There are the dressers and tubs full of tiny clothes, and the hamper with all those clothes what need to be laundered.
Then there is the random stuff. A pacifier here, a pacifier there. So that’s where that stuffed rabbit went! Oops, and here is a bag from Babies ‘R Frightfully Expensive that we forgot about. Oh, look…more clothes. And why are the swaddling blankets over there and not over here? Oh… to make room for the car seat toys and blankets. And the play mats, and the other rocker.
And that’s really just the surface. Thank goodness baby poop smell isn’t that noticeable yet, and that diaper technology is light years ahead of when I was an infant. (Note: my poop smelled like roses. Still does.)
We live in a fairly small house, but it’s not that small. We probably don’t utilize our space well enough–something we’re working on. We’re also planning a big purge.
When we first moved in, we had lots of space. And the floors. Oh… oh, they were beautful.
Then we got a dog. Dogs drool, dogs shed, dogs are hell on wood floors, and dogs are the embodiment of loyalty and love… so worth it. We said goodbye to the nice floors. We got used to dog toys all over the place. We got used to purloined trash suddenly turning up in odd places.
Now the dog and the baby are teaming up.
We will prevail, however. We are the parents. The humans. The adults.
We also have a great sense of humor.
In the meantime, if you come to visit… yes, we have a baby in the house. Sorry for the mess. It could be worse.
We blame the dog. He’s okay with it. He just found some tasty trash while we were changing the child.
Cheers!
–John
