(This is try #2 for this post–I got all the way to the end of the first try and it apparently didn’t pass because Blogger ate the entry and then the browser shut completely down and guess what? No More Entry. Here’s to hoping it goes better this time!)
The husband and I took Owen to get his first ‘real’ pictures today. “How did it go?”, you ask. Well, I have carrot cake with cream cheese frosting (my self-medicate drug of choice) and a rescheduled appointment to try again tomorrow, which would indicate that things did not go according to plan.
I should have taken the cue when I lifted Owen out of his seat about 5 minutes after we got to the picture place and smelled something suspicious. If Owen had been a cartoon, there would have been lots of wavy little stink lines wafting out from his little butt. Since he is booby-fed, he only poops about once every three days, which is normal. In fact, he could even go only once a week and this would still be considered normal. Three days worth of not going is bad enough. Let us
pray hope that is the longest he ever waits. Lately we’ve been lucky enough to hit the nasty diaper lottery and have the dirty diaper happen at home. I say lucky only because every time he has a dirty diaper, we also play poop roulette…will I be lucky and he won’t have a blowout or will I lose everything and have to try to get clothes off of him in such a manner as to not get poop all over everything. Good times we have at my house.
So we managed to get Owen all cleaned up (with only three wipes in the entire diaper bag no less. Need to remember to re-stock or our next outing could be really ugly) and got one semi-decent smile out of him before he decided that he didn’t really want to have his picture taken. At all. At home, The Boy smiles constantly. He even giggles too. Occasionally, he’ll even pull out his fake cough impression that we taught him as well. At the picture place? Not so much, in fact, pretty much not at all. We finally just decided to call it a day and reschedule for tomorrow. Of couse, upon returning home, all Owen wanted to do was to smile, giggle and ‘talk’. Is it really too much to ask for just one real picture of his cute little smile?
I’m really smiling on the inside