High chairs need to come with baby hand restraints...

We finally bit the bullet and bought Banner a high chair yesterday.  You would think this would make feeding him easier (and by "easier" I really mean "less messy").  Except I had perfected the art of holding his arms down while spooning food into his pie hole to prevent him from hijacking the spoon like before and causing general mayhem.  The intervention of the high chair was like taking several giant steps backwards.  Trevor thought I was allowing Banner to make a mess on purpose, which is silly considering I had to clean him up afterwards.  Even though I've been doing it for six months now, baths are incredibly stressful for me because they involve a super-slippery wiggle worm - even more so now that we've graduated from the kitchen sink to the baby tub in the bathroom and have discovered the art of splashing. 

But I digress.  Here is the progression of Banner eating oatmeal in the high chair:

Sigh...

The good news is that the B-Man was already getting a bath tonight because he blew his diaper off in the parking lot of Whole Foods. I had to change him in the front seat of Trevor's car, and was later chastised by my husband for not using the changing pad to protect his leather seats. I tried to explain to him the urgency of the situation (Seriously.  It was an all out poo emergency), and how heart stoppingly terrifying it was to reach into the diaper bag and pull out a size 1-2 diaper for a baby securely in size 3 (because O.M.G). I obviously had other things on my mind. 

But the best was when I was trying to figure out what to do with the "clothing causalities" after the emergency diaper change, and Trevor said, "Well, don't put them in MY car". Like, you know, I had a wide array of vehicular options at my disposal at that point. Took all my will power not to toss Banner's onesie and pants haphazardly into his backseat poo side out.

Don't worry, though. I was good and Trevor and his car made it home unscathed. I also managed to locate an appropriate sized diaper at the bottom of the bag, because nothing is scarier than the idea of a naked baby armed with a fire hose and an apparent fire in his tush riding around in nothing but a car seat for any length of time.  I guess if it had really come down to it, I would have MADE that 1-2 diaper fit.  Thank goodness for that hidden size three, though!  It was a true diaper bag miracle!