I love him. I could fill up this page with reasons I love him, but I'll spare you. Because you already know all of them just by looking at him.
This is my new project:
Thanks to Pinterest, I too can hang pictures going up my stairs. Those are his infant pics on the left, and then his 3 months on the right. There is room for little pictures in between. So I'm excited :) It's hard not to wish him to 6 months just so I can get his next set of pictures up there.
So for people who don't know, I paint and decorate. I just recently started taking on jobs again, because I had to stop while I was pregnant after I became a tipping hazard. However, I don't intend to leave Liam at home while I go earn money. I do enough of that during the week.
I took him to bid a job last week. They had a huge German Shepherd and Liam was instantly in love with her. He of course was giggling and hugging the puppy and petting the puppy, and the dog was LOVING it. She brought him little toys to "play" with and laid them at Liam's feet. It was just too adorable.
And of course the clients (a husband and a wife, I'm imagining a year younger or older than myself) were like, "Aww, he's sweet." While maintaining a reasonable distance from my son at all times. So when Liam puked on my shoulder, I laughed it off quipping, "You guys thinking of having kids?" She handed me and ENTIRE ROLL of paper towels to clean it up. A tablespoon of puke...whole roll of Bounty. AND she brought the trash can over so I could throw the offensive material away. Immediately, I could see where this was going.
So I tried not to seem like I wash rushing, but I really wanted to get out of there. I threw my old stand-by neutrals out there, ("We're thinking about going for something bold...how about this beige, honey?") And that's when Liam's face started turning beet red. And he started grunting. And then he began to AUDIBLY fill his pants. I looked at him and he forced a smile- I think the little guy was truly sorry he was doing #2- and then went back to bearing down and pushing out.
At this point, the dog took an interest. She came over to sniff, as if to inquire, "You mean they let you do this INSIDE?" and proceeded to stick her nose right in Liam's crotch. It was then the client, up to this point just staring in sheer horror, pointed at Liam's back and mumbled, "Um, he's like, coming, um, up his, um..." And then I saw the poop seeping through his shirt above his diaper line.
NO, I didn't bring his diaper bag in with me. Of course not. He was changed and fed and happy when I brought him in. So they wrangled the dog and I went outside, baby in tow, and got the diaper bag and brought it in. They so generously offered their kitchen floor to me so I could clean him up. I opened my changing mat and proceeded to strip Liam down to his skivvies and clean him up with an army of wipes. The clients sat in the living room, probably holding their collective breath to make sure they didn't catch a waft of the poop.
Meanwhile, Liam was THRILLED to be naked, and the dog was equally as happy. She now brought Liam the rest of her toys for him to approve and then rummaged the diaper bag to catch a whif of whatever she could. The clients were yelling at the dog to leave us alone, but that's about as far as it went. They couldn't get too close.
I changed Liam's entire outfit, cleaned up my area- my changing station was now FULL of dog hair from the kitchen floor- and stashed the offensive diaper deep in the diaper bag. As I'm writing this, I wonder if I remembered to fish it out again... The clients cautiously came from the living room and came back to the table. "Thinking of having kids?" I quipped again. They laughed politely. The husband shot the wife a look that said, "We are NEVER having SEX again."
Surprisingly, they booked me for April.