Mean Mugging Baby

What a day. Seriously, I can't believe the hoops I had jump through but so glad I got everything done. First thing Rose and I did this morning was head over to our DEERS appointment to get her enrolled as my dependent. Which involved me holding her carseat up so she could have photo ID taken, binkie and all!

Next we made our way across base to the Tricare office. In case you missed our last adventure, it was giggles and ponies all around. Not. The abridged version, Tricare still sucks. As the woman behind the desk explained to me that I missed the deadline to get Rose enrolled in Prime (by one freaking day), I was seriously having to force that polite smile. Luckily Rose was able to fully express our displeasure.

Rose: (fierce glare)
Tricare Woman: Oh my, she looks quite angry!
Me: Ah yes, that would be Rose's mean mug. Best not to mess with her.

For the curious, Rose's infamous mean mug looks a lot like this:

It makes grown men weep. 

After that we went to get her vaccinations done. But Rose, ever the tricky hobbit, had other plans. I should have recognized the crooked smile. The smile that means only one thing. Two words: Diaper. Explosion. It was Mt. Vesuvius erupting, the heavens colliding sort of diaper blowout. Even the veteran parents around me were a bit horrified.

Poop on my shoulder, handful of dirty wipes and a kicking baby, I was a real work of art. One woman even came up to me in the bathroom, reverent. "Is this your first child?"

"Um, yes it sure is ma'am."

"If you don't mind me saying you are handling it all," she waved to the aftermath, "very very well."

So there you have it, I may get pooped on but at least I can still carry myself with dignity. I wonder if that might just be a metaphor for my life in general.