Fatherhood

It was revolting.  Seriously.  I can’t stand the smell of cooked/cooking broccoli, but it is way, way worse when it’s coming out of a baby’s butt.  And, yes, I could immediately identify what it was.  She’s not really digesting anything at this point, so, y’know… in one end and out the other.

We’re doing this thing called “baby lead weaning,” which is a fancy way of saying that we’re letting her try different foods and skip the whole “baby food” mush thing.  She’s had watermelon, sweet potato, steamed carrots and a few other things.  It teaches her to handle food and, while she tends to wear more than she actually swallows, she’s having a lot of fun with it.

I’m wearing a Mountain shirt with a lovely little wolfy on it, while Stacy’s trippin’ out with the hippy swirl tie-dye and Kia’s rockin’ out with a shirt that’s hard to read, but says “Made in America with Canadian Parts.”  There is no onesy as kick-ass as that one.  It’s so awesome that she couldn’t sit still for me to take her picture.  And how do I know that she’s rockin’ out?  Seriously, imagine a guitar in her hands… it would fit perfectly.