I don’t plan on re-selling Baby Boy’s clothing like Kate Gosselin does (anything for a buck, I guess, although she could sell herself and I’d still be glued to that show). But you know what sucks? STAINS!
I was so smug for the first six months of Baby Boy’s life, because his clothes were never stained. I’d heard that formula stains — which seems unfair, since it’s like milk, and milk doesn’t stain — and I was grateful that breast milk wouldn’t harm his clothes. Good thing, too, since he spit up so freaking much.
But ever since Baby Boy’s been chowing down on real food, I feel like the stain police. Sweet potatoes stained one of his (well, my) favourite H&M shirts. Some of his white onesies suddenly have murky-looking necklines — possible another victim of the ‘taters.
I knowwww that babies/kids/people make messes, and clothes get stained, and it’s just a part of being a mom. But … I hate when his clothes get all gross! I don’t want him to look like a grubby stereotype of a boy!
When I dress him now, I’m always thinking ahead to when — and what! — he’ll be eating. When someone else dresses him, I get a little pang if I see them heading for the highchair with Baby Boy in a crisp light-coloured top. Please, noooooo, not the Kenneth Cole shirt!
I think it’s time to invest in some better-quality bibs, or else our future kiddos are going to have some very dingy-looking hand-me-downs. And I may have stain-related anxiety attacks.