So far, Ian has been both peed and pooed on. I have been peed and puked on. Neither of us has had all three. Both of us are just waiting. She nailed me square on with the regurgitated contents of one 4oz. bottle of formula yesterday. I have new respect for my daughter. She not only is a baby-shaped black hole when it comes to formula, sometimes she is a baby-shaped garden hose with same formula.
She provided a thorough soaking of my shirt, pants, and the chair I was sitting in, not to mention Olivia herself. It was so awful, I had to laugh. Hysterical laughter, but laughter nonetheless. It was that or puke myself. My poor hubby called me as he was walking out of work and I cut off his greeting to ask (demand) that he come home so I could take a steaming shower. He laughed, too, and if I could have reached through the phone it would have been his last deed before meeting his maker at my hands. Thankfully for us both, he was about 5 minutes away at the time.
That shower ranked as one of the best I have ever taken.