People say that there are no guarantees in life. However, I beg to disagree with them. I believe that there are guarantees in cloth diapers, buzzy chairs, and Sports Center. Those three things in combination or separately are guaranteed to make my son poo. Right now, I risk everything by leaving him in a fresh cloth diaper, in the buzzy chair, and with Sport Center gearing up to do the top plays in less than ten minutes. Top Plays, for some reason, are like icing on the cake. My son is home sick today with me. He stayed home yesterday with dad and now it is my turn. I was supposed to go to a conference on technology, but alas instead I am using technology to connect with the real world right now. My son has a hacking cough which is the result of this thick as glue green stuff that I suction out with our little bulb (yeah, he loves it). Tomorrow is Kid’s Day and Duffer plans on walking in it (no, he’s not actually walking yet, but he is learning how to back up down the driveway). We wanted to make sure he is well enough for that. As for me, it gives me a chance to slow down. The end of the school year is always a blur and so I now have a day to notice the details. For example, the daffodils are gone and the lone tulip is up. In addition, there are flowers on the apple tree. This is year two of trying to get our apple trees to grow bigger apples. The bears and deer have enjoyed our apples the last couple years so we are hoping to get in on the action this year. Since the weather is nice than I anticipated, Duffer, the dogs, and I might take a hike around the back today to try out our new backpack. In addition, we also hope to unload the dishwasher, vac the rugs, do laundry, and clean off the dining room table (this one my friends is my lifelong goal). I know I am dreaming big, but if we got a couple of those done our weekend would run a little smoother. But, I’ll tell you right now…they are dreams…the reality will be something completely different. And that, I am okay with.
Tag Archives: Pee & Poo
Size 4 Diapers
My son at month 4 has just transitioned into Size 4 diapers. We decided he was ready for the bigger size when for days in a row he just blew through the 3′s. In fact, this morning during his diaper change he felt the need to tell his dad, “Dude, get the bigger size. I can’t be blowing through my diaper when I am trying to pick up chicks.” So today, as the snow starts swirling, mom and son will attempt to exchange the two packages of Size 3′s that we bought at Toys R Us without a receipt. Considering how friendly they were with my attempt to exchange the humidifier with a receipt, I think that we are going to have our work cut out for us.
I have a Masters Degree, really?
At least that is what I want to wear as a name tag when conversing with someone lately. My friend asked me if anything exciting had happened since we last saw him (it has only been two days so really unless I won Powerball or my almost four month old walked what could really have happened). My first thought to tell him was about the Poonami because it really was the most excitement I had that day. Maybe most traumatic would have been the more appropriate adjective. And since I find this story to be one that could be included in a book about moms and babies I will include it here. On Wednesday morning, I went to yoga BY MYSELF. It was even Ashtanga yoga (which for those of you who are not familiar with the different kinds this is the really active one that when I used to attend classes in Burlington in the summer I walked out looking like I had peed my pants all the way down to my feet because we just kept moving the entire time — not exactly the reflective type of yoga, but boy it makes you feel like you are exercising). Of course, the class on Wednesday was like the kid version of Ashtanga, but I am still telling people I went to an Ashtanga class if they are asking because it makes me feel badass. Anyway, after returning from class I was feeling quite centered and ready to take my little munchkin to Story Hour. We were meeting his friend E and we were excited for the fifteen minute (when you are almost four months old Story Hour is really story fifteen minute) songs and stories. My husband (the nice guy that he is) helped me put Duffer in the car with Swingsley his monkey and then came around to kiss me goodbye. Before kissing me he said (and I quote), I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but when I clicked the little duffer in, well you know. Quizzically, I looked at him unsure of exactly what you know is. Again, maybe my genius four month old is talking and said I want steak or something inane like that. Husband again, I think he pooed. Naive me said, oh that I’ll just change him when I get down to the library. Famous last words. Upon arriving at the library I was running late. Library doesn’t open doors until 10 Story Hour starts at 10, but it was like 10:05 so I was rushing to make sure to get a good seat on the carpet. Luckily, my friend had saved us a spot because it was a full house (must have been because it was vacation). I sit down. I quietly say to my friend, Duffer pooed on the way down, but I think we can make it through Story Hour. I unzip the down suit. A strangely familiar smell begins to waft (the same one that has caused me to dry heave on occasion). I still think oh, it just smells so bad because it is like a trapped fart. Since he pooed inside a pretty airtight outfit, the smell is stuck. I roll him over to start taking him out of suit when I realize I am not that lucky and no we cannot make it through Story Hour. The woman to my left says to me as I realize I need a hazmat suit and a biohazard tent like on Fringe or Eleventh Hour, oh, we’ve all had one of those. One of those? There is a category for this. I excuse myself to the rug by the exit and begin the process of decontaminating my son. For all of those who have had a Poonami come your way or been around when one has happened, you know, there is no easy way to clean up this disaster. Luckily, I carry plastic bags from a dispenser (the kind you have if you need to pick up dog poo — Thanks K!). The entire outfit has to be put in one bag because except for the shoes and socks everything has been touched — this includes pants, a onesie, a shirt, and a fleece jacket. I can’t take the diaper off to clean it off because I have to get all the poo that is all the way up to my son’s shoulders. I can’t take the diaper off because knowing my luck my son will pee on the books on the shelf behind me and on me (by this point I already have poo all over my shirt and I am dry heaving in the corner while the nice library reads about monkeys and sings Criss Cross Applesauce). I am cursing my husband who knows that our son is famous for his poo. That lucky bastard is now at home watching Days of Thunder while I am having a pit stop of my own. In only true miracle fashion, I am able to clean up my son and return for the last two songs of Story Hour where we talk about kittens and mittens and other such things. I chose books as if nothing has happened including two about heavy equipment (diggers and dump trucks) plus the monkey story that started Story Hour since we didn’t really hear it. I manage to wrap my son in my sweater and hurry him to the car since the down suit is out of commission. We make it home in one piece and even manage to get poo out of all his clothes with the Charlie’s Soap we use for the cloth diapers (truth — on the label it says it gets out poo and it really does). After all of this hullabaloo, I dress my son in another snowsuit and head to Staples for some therapeutic shopping. Later on, I end up with my friend at a local restaurant telling him this story. Then I remember, once I used to tell stories of books I read and educational philosophies I believed. Am I really that far gone?
Ugh…
First day back yesterday was great. Pumped on time. Completed my goal of putting all my books on my new bookshelf. Met with sub to get up to date with what I need to do. Visited with folk. Tried not to think about how I could be home watching Rachel Ray with my absolutely adorable son and then having fun filled tummy time. Picked up my little duffer to find out he napped from 12:30 until 3:45 — and I had to be the one to wake him up! Then I came home and realized I was really sick with a fever. Luckily, I have the best husband ever — also a sneaky one. He put me to bed, bath our son, hung out with him until bedtime, brought him to me so I could feed him, and changed the Poonami of a diaper this morning (can’t take credit for that term — learned it at Motherhood Uncensored, but loved it so now it is my new favorite word). My husband, who knows I can’t take time to get better, even woke me up at 6:30 this morning so that I would be forced to take a sick day to get better. Forget red roses. That is love. So now, as I finish my bowl of cereal and write this, I am gearing up to go back to bed without a klingon (he is at daycare) to get rid of the fever I still have and hopefully be able to carry my baby and be a functioning human being by the time they return home this afternoon.
A Sty, A Smile, A Coo, and A Pee
Well, I’ve managed to get a sty in my eye. I haven’t had one of these since I can’t remember. So long that I forgot what they were. A sty such a fancy term for a pimple in your eye. At least, I don’t have pink eye. I spent two days thinking I had that, but then realized I didn’t have any gooey stuff in my eye. It makes it a little hard to read and it itches like crazy sometimes, but luckily it doesn’t interfere with taking care of the babe. My husband has been great and has let me get some extra sleep the last couple nights, but of course that is thwarted when it is my shift and Duffer decides he wants to sleep in five minute intervals with lots of grunts (most times resulting in large amounts of…wait for it…poo!). Smiles are in full force with my son this week. Each morning when we wake up (or rather the sun comes up) he is full of smiles for me! In addition to smiles, he has started cooing. My husband discovered this new vocalization while hanging with him on the bed. It is such an innocent, beautiful sound that I want him to make it forever so when he takes the car out at sixteen and crashes it then I won’t be mad. My son still makes the most pee this side of the Lake Champlain. He peed so his entire diaper was full (and…wait for it…also had poo), yet when I changed him he peed all over himself and the garbage can. So, of course, I picked him up to take all the wet clothes and receiving blanket out from under him so I could put dry, clean clothes on him. Turns out, he had more in him and that familiar warm, wet feeling appeared all over me as well. By the time his dad came home from getting the papers, we both had new outfits on. My favorite part of the smiling and cooing happened last night. Although, my son didn’t fall asleep between his usual time slot of 8:00 to 9:00 p.m., it was a cool time to have him awake (well, actually, he was awake until 10:30), but still a good time. I fed him and put him down in the co-sleeper because we are trying to get him to learn to fall asleep in the co-sleeper instead of the swing for when I go back to work in a month plus since my husband is on vacation and we can make sleep up during the daytime. For the first time, my son didn’t cry when he was put down in the co-sleeper, but rather he just kept moving, grunting, smiling, and cooing for almost two hours (mind you, when the husband came home from hockey he took our son and put him in the swing and he was out in ten minutes and slept almost five hours). Watching my son squirm about and enjoying hanging was great, especially since he had spent an hour before it watching me while cooing and smiling. I love this new stage that he has entered into. He is really starting to discover the world around him. I do hope that he continues this love of discovering new things his whole life, but I would rather he stop the whole peeing on himself and others sooner than later.
My First Meltdown
I feel like I should be writing about a summer vacation where I went to a new location or something, but rather I am admitting that last night or maybe some would call it early this morning I had my first real meltdown since bringing my son home from the hospital. Rationally, I know all the reasons why it happened — first visit out and about, long car ride, off schedule, no naps for anyone in the family yesterday, gas, etc. However, the reality is that it still happened. I felt like the worst mom on the planet because I couldn’t get my little man settled down and the gas out of him. Plus, he had a constipated poo and a fountain of youth (our term for when he decides to douse either us or him with his pee) that really took a lot out of him. Plus, somehow the poo ended up all over my forehead. Now, hours later as he enjoys rockin’ out in his jungle swing, I can laugh about the curry looking poo that worked its way onto my eyebrow in the early hours of morning, but at that time I felt like I was winning the worst mom in America award. Thank goodness my husband is a saint who took over and allowed me to get some sleep except when I had to feed the little bambino. Now at the normal morning hour, everything seems in perspective. I think daylight makes things seem easier sometimes. Nighttime for some reason feels pressure oriented. Amidst the grunts and gurgles, I don’t feel like the worst mom, but rather human. Today we will get back on schedule — all will get a bath from the poofest last evening, we will all take naps today, and unless necessary we will enjoy a day at the house since the roads are crappy. And tonight, we will feel refreshed and ready for round two.
Sleep Perchance to…Sleep?
After bringing home our newborn son on Monday, I was in a mixed state of anxiety and excitement. I was so happy to have him home, but also nervous about being trusted to leave the hospital with him. On the first night, we had a pretty good run of it with Duffer sleeping every two hours or so and then getting up to feed or change diapers. I was awake a little more making sure he was breathing, etc. Two nights ago, he had some major feeding frenzies that went every hour on the hour until 2:30 a.m. I had a little less sleep, but the lactation consultant from the hospital said that 7-10 days is the normal time for the baby’s first growth spurt. Last night was a whole new ball game. I think it might have come from my mother’s comment last night of “oh, he is such a beautiful baby, but nothing like you.” Now, I know you are thinking that might sound a little harsh, but that is not the case. Unfortunately, I know exactly what my mom means. As a baby, I didn’t want to sleep at all so they took to driving me around Brentwood in the wee hours of the morning in the red Ford Fairmont wagon. I was elated when my mother said those words last night because earlier in my pregnancy she warned that I might end up with my clone. Now, less than twelve hours later I want to tell her she may have spoken too soon. Last night, Duffer spent most of the evening awake and ready to go. He looked up at me a couple times like hey, don’t we live in Vegas? Can I go hit the slots? Unfortunately, since Duffer didn’t sleep neither did we. Well, I let my husband sleep a bit more because he is due into work for a meeting morning and I want him to be able to drive there in a semi-coherent condition. I only asked for two mandatory rest periods last night each for about a half hour. During the most recent from 6:45 to 7:15, my husband became a god. When I woke up moments ago, I found our baby…asleep. At this point, we want to thank our friends M, A, and Z for letting us borrow the jungle swing because Duffer is loving it! My husband researched to make sure it wasn’t too soon to let Duffer swing a little and sure enough like everything good in life…moderation. I am letting him conk out for a little bit longer while I get myself breakfast and figure out how to solve the next big mystery, “Why does he keep peeing through his diapers?” My theory goes first to the fact that two days ago when we took him home he fit the criteria for newborn size diaper because of weight, but now that he is gaining weight pretty regularly I think that maybe the amount of liquid and fit of his body is causing it to spill over. We shall see if my theory holds up over the course of the days while hopefully Duffer gets into a schedule where he is at least sleeping half of the night. Sweet dreams…
