Our temporary custody of Antonio ended yesterday morning. So now we’re down to one baby, our baby. Taking care of them was the closest thing I’ll ever get to having twins. It was an ass-reaming reminder of how difficult newborns can be. I’ve forgotten those few weeks when I manned a hawk-eye watch over Nathan for fear that his floppy head would fall off or that I would break him.
If I was a bad person before, this whole taking-another-baby-in-hoopla should exonerate me somewhat. I kept a log of Antonio’s wet diapers. Detailing someone else’s baby’s poo must count for something. Now I can tell my mom that I was the one who accidently set her backyard trash can on fire because I was playing around with a magnifying glass and a cereal box. When I said that I didn’t know what happened, I did know what happened and it wasn’t a random bolt of lightning.
Nathan is not wearing tape in this photo. I didn’t want to use tape because there would be inevitable torture of removing the tape. I took a *clean* pantyliner, colored it in with a non-toxic marker, and cut out the mustache and eyebrows. That’s why there are white bits because those things really are absorbent.
Does anyone know when I can use face paint on a baby? I have so many plans that must be executed before the handbasket comes to take me away.