A baby changes EVERYTHING

As I look around my living room, a room that used to be decorated and cleaned to a T, it is now filled with playmats, and bouncers, and a boppy, and a bumbo, with a few burp clothes lying around too. My living room has now become my child's personal playroom. I will never forget when my sister had her first baby (approximately nine years ago) and her living room became over consumed with baby this and baby that, I SWORE when I had a baby my living room would not be their personal romper room. I thought my sister was absolutely insane for allowing her living room, her own personal space, to be overrun with loud, noisy kid toys. And here I sit, nine years later, in her same boat. A boat that I wouldn't change for the world. So what my shelves are dusty, so what my floor needs to be mopped, so what it looks like a ravage tornado swept through my house. This is my life now, and I'm loving every single minute of it. It's not until you have a baby that you realize how invaluable actual materialistic objects are. I could care less about those candlesticks or that picture frame (unless of course a picture of E is in it).

Another thing I SWORE I'd never do is play that annoying baby music in the car that my sister tortured me with when we went on shopping trips with the baby. Well, guess who bought the same exact annoying baby music CD that my sister had, ME! And if E is in the car it's a must that it has to be on. Granted he's four months old and could probably care less. I don't want to fill my sweet four month old's head with some of the vulgar subjects today's music contains. We want to know about the wheels on the bus, and Mr. Sun Mr. Sun, and Old McDonald.

I SWORE my designer purse would never turn into a diaper bag. As soon as E popped into this world, my purse is now that blue gingham cloth diaper bag full of diapers and butt cream with Ethan sprawled across the side of it. Oh how life changes. My clothes are covered in spit up and my hair is constantly being pulled at. Which I don't have a lot to begin with, considering half of it has fallen out post pregnancy. But this is my life, a life of love, a life of laughter, a life of 100% pure happiness. I have always been a happy person, but this is a different kind of happiness, an indescribable happiness.

For humors sake, last night Chris was feeding E in the living room and I was in our bedroom and I heard somebody release a loud fart. I call it fart, you call it poot. But you get the point. I had to ask Chris "Was that you or E?" It's sad when you honestly don't know if that atrocious noise came from your husband or your baby. And this is not a question I ask once a day, but multiple times a day. I guess the saying like father like son, proves true.