Saturday, September 13, 2008

Call me crazy, just don't call me Mooo.

For those that don't know (shocking b/c I'm insanely proud of this fact and don't hesitate to share it), I produce enough bm (breastmilk, silly) to feed all of Africa. With no one else in the house to drink it besides Mr. Hair, I decided to start slipping some into Mr. Mischief's sippy cups with his organic cow milk. I figured it didn't hurt him and would help beef him up a bit. It's not good enough for the Int'l Milk Bank, but it's good enough for my kiddoes. Even the dogs got to lap it up back in May when I almost lost those 600 ounces...that was a one-time treat never to be repeated...take my word for it.

He hasn't caught on yet, even when he stands by and watches me pour it in straight from his brother's Dr. Brown's. In the beginning, I was like some frat boy spiking his date's punch, sneakily uncapping the bottle and slyly pouring it in while shielded by the fridge door, heart-pounding all the way for fear that I'd be discovered.

The excitement is over as he doesn't care either way. But it has made for a treat in his diaper each morning. Imagine a toddler-produced bm (the gross one you thought of the first time I said 'bm') diluted like a bf infant's. Color, shape, consistency - yup...multiplied by one zillion in quantity. With a few carrots for good measure.

I digress to disgusting.

So, he's developed a slight rash on his inner thigh. Being that BabyDaddy was home today and school isn't that busy, I decided to try making my own wet wipes.

Results pending. FYI, here's the link to the concoction I used.

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Couldn't you just eat this one up? Did it not wet your appetite? What are you craving next? Let me know!