Today, about 10 minutes before I had to leave for class, Xander spewed about 1/2 a bottle of formula all over me. Sean found this immensely hilarious--I imagine it's because I was now feeling his pain. Of course, even though I'm slowly losing weight and getting to expand my wardrobe into some non-moomoo (and yeah, I feel the spelling of moo moo is more appropriate here) options, this was one of my last clean work shirts. Frustration did set in. Luckily, Xander has an innate survival mechanism to grin and be super cute right after spewing whatever liquid from whatever orifice.
Now for those of you unaware, Xander is a bit of a Hoss. He's moving into his 6-9 month clothes and he's only 5 1/2 months old; he wears size 4 diapers while his two year-old sister wears size 3. Don't get me wrong Jerry Springer won't be sending us to Disney World. It's probably because Ainsley is so pocket-sized, that Xander seems so big, but this kid can eat. And eat he does. A lot (as I said before). And quickly.
Before Ainsley was born, Sean and I watched some show that involved a baby pooping on someone. He shuddered at the fact and hoped we wouldn't have to deal with that with our kid; I told him that we'd be doing well if we didn't get poop in our mouths. I also live under no delusion that I'm not going to spend a majority of the next years with vomit, spit, pee (Xander peed in my face today and then GRINNED--refer to the previously mentioned survival mechanism--at me this morning), poop, blood (or blud-uh) all over me. That's what I signed up for when I became a mom. I can take it.
But I wonder if X really needs to binge on a 6oz. bottle so that he can Exorcist it all over me or Sean. And I don't mean to mock boys who actually have eating disorders, but, seriously, WTF, kid?
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