Pee

It's been a while since I wrote an in depth note about Charlie. It's been pretty amazing to watch him grow and develop into the 7 month old genius he's become. Truly no child could have advanced in the same way he has as fast as he has. He is clearly gifted and special. The way he throws toys at my face, gets mad when he bounces too long, grabs himself when I change his diaper and bites Heather when nursing are clearly indications that he is going to be a doctor/lawyer/rock star/chef who cures cancer while simultaneously releasing the best rock album of all time and opens a restaurant 5 stars above French Laundry.

For those that are new parents, I offer a regular recurring post with definitions to help guide you through the first 7 months. Clearly, I am an expert now, and it might be good for you to know these definitions before they happen to you.

Stealth Vomit: Vomit you didn't know was there until you discover it 2 weeks later. You walk to an appointment, take off your jacket, only to discover a an artistic white splotch all the way down the back of it.

Stair Vomit: Like Stealth Vomit, except it secretly got in your hair. You thought you dodged a bullet a couple days earlier, when you moved your head to get out of the way of arial vomit (thanks to the game of airplane you were playing after he ate a big meal), only to discover a crusty patch of upchuck that had dried in your hair in the 2 days since you last were able to shower.

Shark Week Nipple: Once your baby grows teeth, it's like Shark Week on the discovery channel in there. Put a finger in, you might lose it. Eventually, your baby, when full and bored, will decide to test mom rather than feed. When that happens, it's like someone threw chum in the water and waited. It's only a matter of time before the baby shark decides to shoot out of the water and try to bite a nipple off. This leads to the sore Shark Week Nipple as I like to call it. Think we're gonna need a bigger boat.

Toyrony: When after receiving the spoils of excited grandparents and friends, your baby's favorite toy becomes something other than a toy. Like the bottom end of a lotion bottle. Charlie's favorite toy is the bottom end of a lotion bottle. Not the $100 bouncer, not the $30 bongos that play psychological warfare on my brain, but the bottom end of an empty squeeze bottle of skin moisturizer that costs $1.99. Bravo, Charlie, bravo. Oh delicious Toyrony.

Lieper: Like a dirty diaper, but full of lies. You'll go to change your young ward's diaper, smelling the aftermath in his pants, and when you open it up, he's still going. Not cool, dude, not cool. The only way to protect yourself is to seal it back up as fast as possible until the storm passes.

BTSD: Similar to tragedy victims who get PTSD, Blowout Traumatic Stress Disorder happens to parents after a particularly horrendous blowout that goes horribly awry. It's bad enough when you discovered that your baby has overloaded their diaper, then jumped up and down in their bouncer for an hour, pushing the tragedy to outlandishly comical and horrifying ends. Its quite another thing, when they are covered in said filth, and they then dip their foot right into it and then try to stick said foot into their mouth. Or if they grab themselves during sterilization and get some in their hand and try to put it in their mouth. After the initial parental response of trying to stop the incident from occurring, mom or dad might also have the sudden urge to gag, yet they can do nothing about getting fresh air until the baby is sterile. And so they repeatedly gag and stop tragedy over and over, until the baby is once again clean. This leaves them in a state of shock and awe, called BTSD, leaving them on the brink of madness. NOT COOL.

Just writing about it has given me BTSD. I have to go lie down now. More definitions some other time.

Whoever invented huggies needs to be beaten with a bag of oranges, tied to a table, while 7 babies wearing huggies hang over him while drinking a crapload of milk every hour. Then he can enjoy the water torture of 7 diapers simultaneously dumping urine all over him.

I just don't get it. Every time I put Charlie in pampers, I never get a drop on me. With huggies, not only do I get drops, I get a fountain. It's like the diaper isn't there. It shoots out like he's naked. Napkins would work better.

I'm coming for you huggies. And when I find you, I'm going to pee on you.

That is all. I'm now changing my shirt and going out to buy PAMPERS, BEOTCHES!