This has been the week of Poop. This is the 4th straight day of diarrhea. Morgan, not me. Every morning I have been greeted with MRAs smiling face and a poopsplosion of the worst kind. It has been up the back, out the side, and even around to the front. This is NOT how you want to start the day, especially when wearing white work pants.
There are two possible causes 1.) He has a stomach virus or 2.) He has a milk sensitivity and needs to go back to the soy formula. The verdict is out but I am leaning toward the milk thing and planning to go back to soy this evening.
In a BP like attempt to stop the gush, we fed MRA lots of bananas and sweet potato fries last night, hoping, no praying that this morning would be different. Did it work, not a chance.
However, I'm pretty sure MRA said MAMA at me last night. It was actually more of a MAMAMAMAMAM MA MAMAMA. But, he said it with such determination and conviction that I am sure it was with recognition and declaration.
What do you think? I mean, he's talking to me - not the fries, right? Naysayers need not apply.
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