It was a good day. A REALLY good day. I was SO productive, and got several loads of laundry done. The baby is about 3 months now so I figured it was time to wash up the next size up for clothing and have it ready for when she grows (because I’m a smart mom and think proactively like that), and had tossed in all of the brand new baby outfits into the washing monster. AKA machine, but it’s so freakin’ loud it’s basically a monster.

So I’m on the path to excellence and mother of the year awards here with my forward thinking it would seem, right? WRONG. I start picking through the clothes, sorting them into folding piles because I’m OCD about how they get folded and what do I see? A little blue-ish spot on the corner of her blanket. My FAVORITE blanket that we have for her (read more about that blanket in this post) and I feel a little pain in my heart, but try not to stress about it. Kid stuff just gets stains, right? But then another little spot graces my eyes, this time on a little white onesie, and I can feel suspicion creeping up behind me. I mean the little white onesie isn’t THAT big of a deal I suppose, it’s just a plain white Gerber onesie and I have four more in this size, so not too much harm has been done, but isn’t it a little odd that the blue-ish spot has appeared on not one, but two items now?

WAIT… make that THREE! Another white onesie has been attacked, and definitely more vigorously than the former.

Frantically I start throwing clothes around the room trying to discover the culprit, and suddenly my eyes fall on one of the most precious outfits I have in this size and in horror, they see the shriveled tag, carelessly forgotten to be removed, with wet ink oozing like Tom Riddle’s diary.

No… I can’t help the Harry Potter references. It’s the only way I make it through some days. Or incidences like this.

At this point anger begins to bubble in my throat and my swears start flying around the room. All rational thought leaves me and my fury is so fiery that the inky tag might have cut me off on the freeway (road rage is not one of my finer qualities, alas it is there). WHY? Why did this tag have to sit there offending me, mocking me, its blood spattered over my precious, brand new baby items?! Baby clothes are so precious because the opportunities for your child to wear them are ever fleeting as they grow at warp speed, but you still HAVE to have them because the baby can’t just be naked. Baby clothes are the epitome of necessary evil. And I generally don’t like to spend any money on them because… WHY when they are spit up on, pooped on, stained, and only fit for approximately 4.5 blinks of an eye?

But this outfit. THIS particular outfit, was different. I didn’t buy anything until I was halfway through my pregnancy, and the day I found out that sweet baby growing inside of me was a girl, I felt a connection to her. In my excitement I rushed to Nordstrom and walked through all of the baby girl clothes over and over again, pouring over the adorable things and ignoring their ridiculous price tags because I wanted to choose a special outfit for little lady. Just one special outfit. And this was it.

It’s an outfit from the Jessica Simpson collection, and I love her stuff because it is all so sweet and feminine, but trendy and actually somewhat affordable- or at least affordable compared to the other things I had found. Just look how cute it is!

And now… it is ruined. And I think the worst part is because it is entirely, 100% my fault, so I can’t even be mad at anyone else about it! GAHHH! I guess this is just how my luck goes, and how mom life in general goes, right? #momshithappens for real. Please tell me if any of you can relate? And if any of you know of a good stain remover on stubborn, inky stains please send suggestions my way!

XXOO Sunny