more from the new baby blog

The other day we were hanging out. The doctor told us to introduce a bottle so he knows what to do with it. Once a day. So Brent decided to try. I should have given Brent more direction. I finally realized this and then Brent took the baby in to the bedroom to feed him. I was on the phone.

Brent comes out some amount of time later with a crying Oksar and says, "it did not work." Ok, give him to me. I feed Oskar. Oskar wants both boobs. Strange, but ok. Oksar then proceeds to spit up milk in a fashion not dissimilar to that of Niagara Falls. It goes everywhere. On me, on the couch, on him, everywhere. So bath time here we come. Before that I casually ask Brent, "what did you mean by it did not work?" "He did not drink the whole bottle." "How much did he drink?" 2/3rds of it! Only 1. 4 ozs or so.

Ops. Rookie mistake. (And to be fair, Brent may remember this completely differently than I do...)

While Brent is holding the naked baby, said naked baby pees on him. HA. Brent says, "now I hope he does not shit on me."

Bath time is a win.

Cut to today, early, say 7 am. Brent is up changing the baby. I am asleep. Brent yells, "SHIT." I spring out of bed. "What is wrong?"

"The baby just projectile shat on me and everything else. It just came out with such force. I had no idea I had to watch for that."

Poor guy. I felt horrible for Brent. He took it mostly in stride.