...when Baby B is bawling in the backseat of the car, I catch every gosh darn traffic light within a mile of our house? And it seems like they've multiplied and increased the amount of wait time between lights.
...strangers feel obligated to profess how "well fed" Baby B is? Or refer to him as a "porker." This, by the way, in unacceptable and it makes me want to nicely comment on how ample your butt is. But I'll mean it nicely. I promise.
...strangers feel the need to touch Baby B? ON THE FACE. IT'S FLU SEASON, PEOPLE! Keep your hands to yourself. Or, if you must touch, stick with his Robeez-covered toes.
...there are always bottles to be cleaned? Didn't I just clean them? I nurse, for goodness sake, where do they come from?!
...I suddenly find every baby bodily function very endearing? Buuuuuurp! Awwwww! Toooooot! Awwwww! Spit up all over the outfit I just changed you into. Awwwww!
...there's no other people in the world I'd rather spend time with than my boys?