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     Why do babies wear clothes? Is it really just because us adults think that those little outfits are "sooo cute!", or is there really a purpose? Because I'm seriously considering taking all of Isaac's new clothes back in exchange for pairs of long socks and a baby Snuggy. This kid poops like it's what all the cool babies are doing and he's desperate to fit in... and as SOON as I change his diaper and get all the snaps done back up on the 45 layers he's required to wear, I hear the familiar gruntings of the second bowel movement begin. At that point, I'd be willing to buy stock in ugly Snuggies just to avoid the hassle of finding said snaps in the dead of night, working by the small glow of the baby monitor. Which brings me to my next point...
     The nurses lied. They should be punished. It's just not right to tell a brand new mother of an infant, "Oh, your baby sleeps through the night like a champ!" Two words, medical professionals of a hospital that shall remain nameless: You Suck. What they should've said? "Your child sleeps through the DAY like a champ... in fact, you'll probably think that he's in a coma, but at night, I'm sorry to tell you, he's going to be wide awake and ready to party." (All are welcome to join for tonight's party... Lord knows I'll be up. BYOB = Bring Your Own Bottle... or boob, depending on your feeding preferences). I brought up two bottles with me, figuring that we'd probably have two feedings in the night and then a couple of diaper changes. Well, I was sorely unprepared when Isaac wanted to eat FOUR times and then pooped continuously throughout the night. And it was also rather unfair that the little nugget refused to look alive at all during the day time, but then wanted to coo and explore and be all cutesy and fun at bedtime... those nurses told me to make nighttime feedings very businesslike... (suit and tie??) no monkeying around, no cooing, no baby-talk. Well, ya know what? That's just not fair, NOR is it possible! I couldn't refuse his cuteness at night anymore than I could wake the sack of logs up during the previous day!
     And so today, poor Cameron and Taylor have a very harried mother on their hands. I smell funny, look greasy, and the house is a disaster (because lets face it... when you drop something while you're holding a baby, it's just way easier to leave it on the floor than to try to pick it up!). So, for tonight, I will bring up FIVE bottles... four filled with Isaac's formula, and one HUGE one filled with espresso for Mommy. 

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