Infantile Dysfunction

I can't decide if whole sectors of my brain are being rewritten to house the volumes of baby specific information I can now rattle off like some sort of modern day, West Coast Mary Poppins, or if I'm somehow retaining the pre-baby knowledge as well (things like how many copies to send the Supreme Court). All I know is I'm now the proud owner of factoids like:

• Breastfed babies might poop only once every 7 days or more and that's ok.


• This one knocked me back when I first read it: you can breastfeed an adopted baby. Really.


• Huggies Supremes are fluffier and more contoured than Huggies Ultratrims, and you need to buy the next size up for nighttime.


• Aquaphor is diaper rash's worst nightmare.


• Swim diapers are hard to find, but available at Drugstore.com. (They don't look all that watertight. I suppose it's nonetheless necessary to get in that kiddy pool, huh?)


• If you're going to partake of Mommy and Me (go ahead: click it, turn up your speakers, and welcome to my world) or some reasonable facsimile thereof, it's best if it's been awhile since you've seen Raising Arizona. That way, the song about "Mommy would never leave me, Mommy would never forget me" might not evoke images of John Goodman, William Forsythe, Nathan Jr., and the car seat, and you might not erupt in inappropriate yet uncontainable sniggering.

And don't worry, the phone isn't broken. It's just waiting for the baby to fall asleep.