Do you know what isn't as much fun when you are breastfeeding?
Bouncy houses. Yikes. That's pain, not happiness.
Not. Too. Fun. Dangerous. Scary. Hurtful. I'm not sure when the last time was you jumped with lead weights attached to your top, but I do. And I will not be doing that again NEtime soon. Nursing bras just do not lend the support needed to enjoy a nice bouncy house. Sorry Target. They just don't.
Oh and FYI, the bouncy house wasn't just for us. Though that does seem about like something we would rent for funsies. No, no, not this time. This time it was Sweet Paisley's 3rd birthday party.
Ugh. No idea how she is three and such a little lady.
She even threw an outfit change at us mid-party. You just can't teach fabulous. You're either born with it or not.
You also can't teach maturity.
This guy doesn't have it. Guess what the other husbands/Dads/grown men were drinking at the party? Not a JUICE BOX. That's what.
Or photo bombing a nice family picture. That face is on purpose. I can't take him anywhere.
Oooh but you know what we did play at Paisley's party? Baby swap. Sometimes it's easier to deal with someone else's fussy baby than your own so we did a trade.
Don't we make nice swapped families? These boys are going to have a lot of questions as they grow up. Pictures like this won't help.
Or pictures clearly showing that I gel my four month old baby's hair.
What?! First of all. He likes it like that. Second, his hair grows in a faux hawk. How do I not gel that? And don't worry, I use a very mild, organic, meant-for-baby hair gel. Definitely not the $2.59 Queen Helene hair gel from Rite Aid that Chuck has been using since he was 16. Definitely not that stuff...
I promise I'm a good mom. Promise.
I just like this picture so I get to post it. I make the blog, I make the rules.