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Three Outfit Days.

Kevin and I got home yesterday at noon from a short getaway (shoutout to Abbey & Faith [& my mom for a few hours] for being his super nannies).

The reason for the getaway: for no reason other than we're adults, we can, and we want to strengthen our marriage.

I was SOOOO excited to hold my baby boy. It was only a few days... but I'd missed him!

But...You know something? I wondered about him missing me back.

You see, within the hour of us getting home, he had a significant puke down my left arm and peed through every layer of my clothes while I held him at church. I think we made it five minutes in the church building before we turned around, walked home in high heels (resulting in a nasty blister), realized I forgot my keys, scrambled around to find the spare key, wiped us both down, did us both an entire wardrobe change, and wandered back to church (this time in sandals. Less classy, but less painful). And on the way  he slapped my face with his palms, giggling at the sound, and leaned over to attempt at using his newly-grown teeth to gnaw on my shoulder.

I love that kid. I know he's less than a year old, and that these deeds are nothing more than his course of growth and development. However, changing clothes three times a day after being drenched in bodily fluids is a regular occasion in my life at present. Sometimes it's more than a little exasperating and discouraging.

But Three Outfit Days are followed with days that make every peed-through dress and puke-stained sleeve worth it. Today was one of those:

He giggled when I came in his room first thing this morning, gave me a gum-toothed grin and shouted "YAAAAAAAY!" Which very well may have been his first word...

He ate his baby food like a champ with minimal mess, a result of weeks of training and after hours of scrubbing down walls and blinds from failed attempts.

He snuggled into me while I read him his favorite story, The Wide Mouthed Frog.

 All things considered? Worth.

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