I have forgotten how nasty a newborn diaper can get. Recently, I've had to alter my diet severely due to my little s.u.n's sissy-lala stomach issues. In "the books" it says that garlic, onions, broccoli, and hoppy beer can give newborns gas and make them extra fussy. Well, they forgot to mention dairy. So not only can I NOT have any of the above, every time I have a glass of milk or some cheese (or CHOCOLATE even), after the next feeding, Mr. W goes to a whole new level of newborn shit status. Usually, his little mustard bomb poops are coming out of the sides, but throw in some dairy and we have it coming out heading north, south, east AND west.
Thank goodness they don't smell.
And What The Fuck is up with dressing newborns in onsies??! I thought I loved them. I don't anymore. Have you ever tried to change a 7 week old, whose just blown the biggest crap that it's at the nape of his neck, out of a damn onsie??? How do I NOT get it in his hair??? Legs?? Arms?? Even face!? I know what you're thinking...how does it get on his face? Oh trust me. It can, and will, and does. He has no control over his pudgy little arms and legs. So he's cooing at me because FINALLY, he's got some relief from his little gassy stomach and blown some major ass. Those little cute hands and feet are a damn nuisance. While I'm trying to get the shit stained onsie off of him, he's doing the wiggliy-piggily dance...so of course, poop everywhere! I've wondered if he's ready for a bigger diaper...but recently we tried a size 2 and he was swimming...so we're sticking with 1's and Huggies for sure, they leak the least.
cant type one handed...will continue poo rant later :)
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Blame it on the Dog
Several incidents have happened recently that I can't even begin to tell you how funny they are...
We've had Ellie experiment with putting things down the toilet. A whole role of toilet paper was donated to the cause. Grandma actually cleaned up that mess while I was busy giving Ellie a big ol' swat on the ass. She had learned that trick from her cousin Max. He likes to put shoes, wipes, anything that's available down the toilet in his house. I think his Mom, my sister in law, Kira, was telling me about that one day while in ear shot of both Ellie and Max. Wouldn't you know it, that tp roll incident happened the VERY same day! Who would guess 2 year olds knew how to eavesdrop on conversations! :)
Ellie is still peeing on the floor whenever I put her in time out. (so at least ONCE a day) Usually, she's on time out for being too rough with her brand new baby brother, Wyatt. So now, she knows exactly where the floor cleaner is, the don't-have-a-match-crud-towels are, and she knows to put her dirty clothes in the hamper. Even after having her clean up her own mess (supervised of course...I don't let my 3 year old use household chemicals without watching her! duh.) she still hasn't learned not to pee on the floor. I'm just hoping her preschool teacher doesn't piss her off. She'll get kicked outta preschool for those kind of shenanigans I'm sure.
Speaking of peeing...Max was over at our house last week, and the two of them were in the bathroom together. I was standing in the doorway watching them go potty, taking turns... Max went first. Our toilet is kind of high, so he stood up to pee. Very natural. Go boys for standing up and peeing! whoohooo. Medal winners. So Ellie is watching him and after he's done...she goes to the toilet, pulls down her pants, stands in front of the porcelain and takes aim! I have just enough time to look over (was helping Max wash his hands) and yell "Nooo no no no no Ellie. Girls get to sit on the toilet like ladies, boys have to stand up."
A few days later, (yesterday in fact) Ellie and I are outside watering and playing in the garden. She gets her clothes wet and takes them all off. That usually happens on a daily basis. So she's prancing around in her undies...and before you know it, there she is, panties off and peeing like a boy in the garden. I didn't really get mad, because it's pretty damn funny if you ask me. Hopefully, she won't be doing that at a regular park, out in public, or at her school. If THAT happens, oh Christ-Bananas, that's going to just MAKE my day!!! So I take Wyatt in the house, he's sacked out now from being in the Baby Bjorn for a bit, and I come back outside. Sitting on the concrete is a nice HUGE ball of shit with Ellie's name ALL over it. This time I got mad. Nobody shits on MY concrete and gets away with it. So I asked in my Mommy-angry-voice, "Eleanore Leigh, WHAT is THAT on the ground??!"
Her reply: (wait for it...because it's so fucking funny)
"It's my ball of Poo-poo Mommy. Karah made me do it."
Karah is our DOG.
So when in doubt...blame the dog.
We've had Ellie experiment with putting things down the toilet. A whole role of toilet paper was donated to the cause. Grandma actually cleaned up that mess while I was busy giving Ellie a big ol' swat on the ass. She had learned that trick from her cousin Max. He likes to put shoes, wipes, anything that's available down the toilet in his house. I think his Mom, my sister in law, Kira, was telling me about that one day while in ear shot of both Ellie and Max. Wouldn't you know it, that tp roll incident happened the VERY same day! Who would guess 2 year olds knew how to eavesdrop on conversations! :)
Ellie is still peeing on the floor whenever I put her in time out. (so at least ONCE a day) Usually, she's on time out for being too rough with her brand new baby brother, Wyatt. So now, she knows exactly where the floor cleaner is, the don't-have-a-match-crud-towels are, and she knows to put her dirty clothes in the hamper. Even after having her clean up her own mess (supervised of course...I don't let my 3 year old use household chemicals without watching her! duh.) she still hasn't learned not to pee on the floor. I'm just hoping her preschool teacher doesn't piss her off. She'll get kicked outta preschool for those kind of shenanigans I'm sure.
Speaking of peeing...Max was over at our house last week, and the two of them were in the bathroom together. I was standing in the doorway watching them go potty, taking turns... Max went first. Our toilet is kind of high, so he stood up to pee. Very natural. Go boys for standing up and peeing! whoohooo. Medal winners. So Ellie is watching him and after he's done...she goes to the toilet, pulls down her pants, stands in front of the porcelain and takes aim! I have just enough time to look over (was helping Max wash his hands) and yell "Nooo no no no no Ellie. Girls get to sit on the toilet like ladies, boys have to stand up."
A few days later, (yesterday in fact) Ellie and I are outside watering and playing in the garden. She gets her clothes wet and takes them all off. That usually happens on a daily basis. So she's prancing around in her undies...and before you know it, there she is, panties off and peeing like a boy in the garden. I didn't really get mad, because it's pretty damn funny if you ask me. Hopefully, she won't be doing that at a regular park, out in public, or at her school. If THAT happens, oh Christ-Bananas, that's going to just MAKE my day!!! So I take Wyatt in the house, he's sacked out now from being in the Baby Bjorn for a bit, and I come back outside. Sitting on the concrete is a nice HUGE ball of shit with Ellie's name ALL over it. This time I got mad. Nobody shits on MY concrete and gets away with it. So I asked in my Mommy-angry-voice, "Eleanore Leigh, WHAT is THAT on the ground??!"
Her reply: (wait for it...because it's so fucking funny)
"It's my ball of Poo-poo Mommy. Karah made me do it."
Karah is our DOG.
So when in doubt...blame the dog.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Wyatt's Birth Story
This post, unfortunately, is going into the NPR category (non poop related). There might be a little poo reference here or there, but it's definitely not in the same category as Ellie's poopscapades.
Saturday: September 10th
Mom and I got together that morning for a little coffee and some shopping. We were looking for fabric for tablecloths for Kira and Tyler's wedding in October. We hit up the Wallymart in the Big P (Poway) early in the morning before the crazies showed up. Then we had a healthy breakfast at her house. I had to go home by 10am because Tim was watching both the girls and he needed a bit o' a break. Later in the day, I met my Mom again, this time I had Jade and Ellie and we met Kira at the Party City in Escondido to check out stuff for the wedding. While we were there I started feeling pretty crampy. I had to take a little break and sit down while Kira and Jade went to look at the Tux's in the Men's Warehouse next door. Jade had planned a sleepover with my Mom, so she when we departed, it was just crank-pot Ellie and I going home.
Sunday September 11th
1am: I woke up feeling like shit. My insides were in an uproar since the day before. I thought maybe I over did it by walking around all day shopping, and then cleaning in between shopping trips (what was I thinking!?) I was in the bathroom most of the night thinking...why? Why won't my body just let me sleep? Must I really keep pooping (ahhhh! There it is! The poop reference!) every hour and a half tonight?! (Future moms to be - your body does this unholy thing before birth [that I somehow forgot about...pregnancy brain perhaps] of "cleaning " itself out so you don't shit yourself in the delivery bed. Be thankful. I was.) Anyways, moving on...bathroom again...and ohhh what is THAT??! Oh yes, THAT (gross) is a mucus plug and I'll just stop.right.there. You don't want to know anymore. Moving on...
3:45am: A contraction wakes me up. Not a crazy bad one like the leg cramps, but one hard enough for me to open one eye JUST as I've gone to sleep, and say "ooowwwwwww" outloud. Tim had a horrible night sleep too I'm sure, he must have heard me and asked how I was doing. Not great obviously, because 6 minutes later, I had another, and 6 minutes later, another...another...another...another. So now it's 4:30 in the morning...I'm lying in bed trying to sleep through the contractions. Finally, I said F*ck it out loud and got up to watch some T.V. There is absolutely NOTHING on at 4:30am. Nothing. There are over 700 channels to choose from and at 4:30am...NOTHING is interesting. What WAS interesting was my appetite. I wanted to FEEEEED like never before. I ate a half a box of Raisin Bran from 4:30am to 4:35am. And it was delicious. I don't think I even felt a contraction as I ate. I was just...starving. Meanwhile, I'm contracting...and breathing...and eating...and contracting some more...every 6-8 minutes for like, forevvvverrrrr.
6:00am: Tim got up, asked if I thought this was "IT" and I confirmed, yes, Jesus, this is fucking "IT!!" We're going to have a baby TODAY!!! Holy shit. Then I started panicking. I wasn't packed! Had nothing prepared. At least the house was clean I thought throughout the morning...packing only took a half hour. Then I'm facebooking and my friends are telling me to call the doctor. I'm not supposed to call the doctor until a) my water breaks or b) contractions are 5 minutes apart for 1 hour and lasting 1 minute or longer. My problem: No water breakage AND my contractions were no where NEAR 5 minutes apart AND they were only lasting about 20 to 30 seconds long...but they hurt like a bitch. So at 9:45am, I call the hospital and the midwife that is on call listens to my babbling and tells me very bubbly to come on in.
9:50am: I'm sitting in the car about to have a panic attack because we're actually going to have a baby today!
9:51am: Still freaking out that I'm going to have a baby T.O.D.A.Y.
10:55am: We check in to Labor and Delivery at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla
11:15am: I'm in the bed with a cute pink gown, signing my life away, not even looking at what I'm signing...it's all standard procedure. Everything is a bluuuurr after that really. Do you want to have this vaccine? Yes? Sign here...no? sign here... In case we mess up, you won't sue us...sign here... OK!!! Bring me drugs! Now!
11:20am: My super, awesome, sweet nurse Kara R. comes in and checks me..."Yep! You are ready! 100% effaced and 5 cm already" ... my jaw literally hit the floor. I could NOT believe that I labored that long at home. It was SUCH a good feeling!! AND my contractions were still bearable...barely. She wanted to know if I wanted the epidural right away or wait and I thought about it for maybe....ONE second. Bring me drugs. The anesthesiologist came in 2 minutes later, I was bawling and screaming my eyes out about 3 minutes later and about 5 minutes after THAT, I was in sweeeet heaven.
12:something o'clock-but-I-have-no-clue-because-by-this-time-I-am-feeling-soooo-good: they broke my water to help things along and told me that I'd probably deliver somewhere around 5pm.
2:something o'clock-still-feeling-groovy: I'm feeling a little pressure in my bum, so I ring for the nurse to let her know. She checks my cervix and is totally shocked...9cm!! She starts rushing around the room, trying to get things in order. I'm pretty sure they didn't expect me to progress this fast. She called for the midwife and 10 minutes later they're asking me to push.
3:54pm: After an hour and a half of hard pushing...I probably told (whined, actually) them 5 trillion times, "I'm don't feel like I'm doing anything here...is he here yet??" (Pushing felt like I was trying to take a big poop, but since my legs and ass were numb...all I felt like I was doing was holding my breath for 10 seconds at a time) I guess I did it right because little Wyatt Clyde Phipps made his joyous and LOUD debut at 3:54pm. He weighed 9lbs 2oz, was 21 inches long, and had the longest feet and fingers I'd ever seen on a baby. Tim and I were overjoyed. Wyatt was perfect. He was a little jaundice a day later, but we got to take him home on my birthday, the 13th. It was the best birthday present ever.
(Tim's account of the whole day was something along the lines of: we checked in, she cried, she laughed, she acted kind of crazy/funny, the nurse did something to her, she felt like she had to poop, she pushed, it smelled, the baby came out, he cried, he is awesome. the end.]
:)
Saturday: September 10th
Mom and I got together that morning for a little coffee and some shopping. We were looking for fabric for tablecloths for Kira and Tyler's wedding in October. We hit up the Wallymart in the Big P (Poway) early in the morning before the crazies showed up. Then we had a healthy breakfast at her house. I had to go home by 10am because Tim was watching both the girls and he needed a bit o' a break. Later in the day, I met my Mom again, this time I had Jade and Ellie and we met Kira at the Party City in Escondido to check out stuff for the wedding. While we were there I started feeling pretty crampy. I had to take a little break and sit down while Kira and Jade went to look at the Tux's in the Men's Warehouse next door. Jade had planned a sleepover with my Mom, so she when we departed, it was just crank-pot Ellie and I going home.
Sunday September 11th
1am: I woke up feeling like shit. My insides were in an uproar since the day before. I thought maybe I over did it by walking around all day shopping, and then cleaning in between shopping trips (what was I thinking!?) I was in the bathroom most of the night thinking...why? Why won't my body just let me sleep? Must I really keep pooping (ahhhh! There it is! The poop reference!) every hour and a half tonight?! (Future moms to be - your body does this unholy thing before birth [that I somehow forgot about...pregnancy brain perhaps] of "cleaning " itself out so you don't shit yourself in the delivery bed. Be thankful. I was.) Anyways, moving on...bathroom again...and ohhh what is THAT??! Oh yes, THAT (gross) is a mucus plug and I'll just stop.right.there. You don't want to know anymore. Moving on...
3:45am: A contraction wakes me up. Not a crazy bad one like the leg cramps, but one hard enough for me to open one eye JUST as I've gone to sleep, and say "ooowwwwwww" outloud. Tim had a horrible night sleep too I'm sure, he must have heard me and asked how I was doing. Not great obviously, because 6 minutes later, I had another, and 6 minutes later, another...another...another...another. So now it's 4:30 in the morning...I'm lying in bed trying to sleep through the contractions. Finally, I said F*ck it out loud and got up to watch some T.V. There is absolutely NOTHING on at 4:30am. Nothing. There are over 700 channels to choose from and at 4:30am...NOTHING is interesting. What WAS interesting was my appetite. I wanted to FEEEEED like never before. I ate a half a box of Raisin Bran from 4:30am to 4:35am. And it was delicious. I don't think I even felt a contraction as I ate. I was just...starving. Meanwhile, I'm contracting...and breathing...and eating...and contracting some more...every 6-8 minutes for like, forevvvverrrrr.
6:00am: Tim got up, asked if I thought this was "IT" and I confirmed, yes, Jesus, this is fucking "IT!!" We're going to have a baby TODAY!!! Holy shit. Then I started panicking. I wasn't packed! Had nothing prepared. At least the house was clean I thought throughout the morning...packing only took a half hour. Then I'm facebooking and my friends are telling me to call the doctor. I'm not supposed to call the doctor until a) my water breaks or b) contractions are 5 minutes apart for 1 hour and lasting 1 minute or longer. My problem: No water breakage AND my contractions were no where NEAR 5 minutes apart AND they were only lasting about 20 to 30 seconds long...but they hurt like a bitch. So at 9:45am, I call the hospital and the midwife that is on call listens to my babbling and tells me very bubbly to come on in.
9:50am: I'm sitting in the car about to have a panic attack because we're actually going to have a baby today!
9:51am: Still freaking out that I'm going to have a baby T.O.D.A.Y.
10:55am: We check in to Labor and Delivery at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla
11:15am: I'm in the bed with a cute pink gown, signing my life away, not even looking at what I'm signing...it's all standard procedure. Everything is a bluuuurr after that really. Do you want to have this vaccine? Yes? Sign here...no? sign here... In case we mess up, you won't sue us...sign here... OK!!! Bring me drugs! Now!
11:20am: My super, awesome, sweet nurse Kara R. comes in and checks me..."Yep! You are ready! 100% effaced and 5 cm already" ... my jaw literally hit the floor. I could NOT believe that I labored that long at home. It was SUCH a good feeling!! AND my contractions were still bearable...barely. She wanted to know if I wanted the epidural right away or wait and I thought about it for maybe....ONE second. Bring me drugs. The anesthesiologist came in 2 minutes later, I was bawling and screaming my eyes out about 3 minutes later and about 5 minutes after THAT, I was in sweeeet heaven.
12:something o'clock-but-I-have-no-clue-because-by-this-time-I-am-feeling-soooo-good: they broke my water to help things along and told me that I'd probably deliver somewhere around 5pm.
2:something o'clock-still-feeling-groovy: I'm feeling a little pressure in my bum, so I ring for the nurse to let her know. She checks my cervix and is totally shocked...9cm!! She starts rushing around the room, trying to get things in order. I'm pretty sure they didn't expect me to progress this fast. She called for the midwife and 10 minutes later they're asking me to push.
3:54pm: After an hour and a half of hard pushing...I probably told (whined, actually) them 5 trillion times, "I'm don't feel like I'm doing anything here...is he here yet??" (Pushing felt like I was trying to take a big poop, but since my legs and ass were numb...all I felt like I was doing was holding my breath for 10 seconds at a time) I guess I did it right because little Wyatt Clyde Phipps made his joyous and LOUD debut at 3:54pm. He weighed 9lbs 2oz, was 21 inches long, and had the longest feet and fingers I'd ever seen on a baby. Tim and I were overjoyed. Wyatt was perfect. He was a little jaundice a day later, but we got to take him home on my birthday, the 13th. It was the best birthday present ever.
(Tim's account of the whole day was something along the lines of: we checked in, she cried, she laughed, she acted kind of crazy/funny, the nurse did something to her, she felt like she had to poop, she pushed, it smelled, the baby came out, he cried, he is awesome. the end.]
:)
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
"Look Mom"
When you think of your child saying, "Look Mom!" what do you picture? I've heard that phrase a thousand times it seems, and yes, every time it's said...I look. Most of the time, it's one of the kids doing a new dance move, trying on some dress up clothes, showing me the newest toy they'd like for Christmas or their birthday. However, never before did I expect a "Look Mom!" to make my nose scrunch up and almost gag.
We make it a priority to ask Ellie if she needs to sit on the potty at least once every 20 minutes. Since she's been doing so well with potty training, she usually says no, but then she goes on her own about 5 minutes after we ask. Sometimes, especially after waking up from a nap, we get hysterical NOOOOOO's and I don't WANNNAAAAAA's...so we just leave her alone to cry it out. Don't need any of THAT crazy rubbing off on me.
So yesterday, she wakes up from her afternoon nap with a little touch of crazy...I'd already asked her if she needed to go potty...I got tears and wails of course, so I figured she'd let me know if she had to go. Ohhhh, did she let me know.
"LOOK MOM!!"
She looks at me. I look at her. She looks at her feet. I look at her feet...and the pee starts to flow.
Whhhaaaat!!? How do you just stand there and pee yourself kiddo?! Especially after I JUST asked if you had to go? So we change her panties, wash her off, clean up the floor/scrub the carpet...she's good to go right? right???? riiiiiiiiiighhht...2 minutes later:
"LOOK MOM!!!"
"No fucking way."
We make it a priority to ask Ellie if she needs to sit on the potty at least once every 20 minutes. Since she's been doing so well with potty training, she usually says no, but then she goes on her own about 5 minutes after we ask. Sometimes, especially after waking up from a nap, we get hysterical NOOOOOO's and I don't WANNNAAAAAA's...so we just leave her alone to cry it out. Don't need any of THAT crazy rubbing off on me.
So yesterday, she wakes up from her afternoon nap with a little touch of crazy...I'd already asked her if she needed to go potty...I got tears and wails of course, so I figured she'd let me know if she had to go. Ohhhh, did she let me know.
"LOOK MOM!!"
She looks at me. I look at her. She looks at her feet. I look at her feet...and the pee starts to flow.
Whhhaaaat!!? How do you just stand there and pee yourself kiddo?! Especially after I JUST asked if you had to go? So we change her panties, wash her off, clean up the floor/scrub the carpet...she's good to go right? right???? riiiiiiiiiighhht...2 minutes later:
"LOOK MOM!!!"
"No fucking way."
Thursday, September 1, 2011
A New Chapter
Big Girl Panties. That is the name of my new chapter. One would think that I'd be so happy that we're finally AT this chapter. For so long, the end was bleak and dark. Constant diaper changing, poopscapades of all sorts and wiping incidents...but now we're actually getting somewhere. We're making head way and of course, with new territories, comes new and unusual challenges.
(If you've never seen the movie Despicable Me, you should go netflix the shit out of that movie. It is to die for. Your kids will love it and you will come away with a deep affection for Gru, the main character. Plus the soundtrack is really fun.)
"Lightbulb."
That must have been what happened in Ellie's head one morning, because she woke up out of the blue and refused a diaper. She wanted Big Girl Panties...so BGP's she received. On our first day, she ran to the bathroom screaming at the top of her lungs, "The Pee-Pee is coming! The Pee-Pee is coming!" All Paul Revere style. Day 2 was a little harder, it was super hot out so we didn't want to go outside and suffocate from the humidity...therefore the tv was on and she kind of lost focus for a little bit. I think we had 2 accidents that day. Then she just gave up. NOPE! Don't wanna! Not sitting on the potty. I hate stickers! I hate candy! Can't make me. That was her attitude for about a week. I think I jinxed it by posting something on facebook. I shouldn't have done that...that's all it takes is believing that it's happening, and then poof! it's gone. Blaaaaah!!!
So we go on our yearly vacation to Carlsbad State Beach and we're having a great time and out of the blue again, Ellie wants the Big Girl Panties. This time, I don't have any, they are hanging out at home in the drawer with a big 'useless' sign taped over them...so she has to settle for going to the bathroom with a pull up on. 2 days of potty training at the beach! Who would have thought?! As soon as we got home, it was BGP's again and it's been like this for over a week now! We've had a few accidents, but now we're getting her to go poop and pee on the potty every day!
Now for the "New challenges:"
#1: Public Bathrooms. Two words: fucking gross
How the hell am I supposed to train my 2 year old not to touch the toilet?! If she doesn't touch the sides of it to hold herself up, she falls in the hole (one of her biggest fears and why she DIDN'T want to sit on the potty to begin with). So I'm the "washing hands" Nazi from hell now. Those paper things are awesome, but Ellie loves to crinkle them, so we still end up touching the nasty toilet. So f'ing gross.
#2: Accidents. Three words: SO fucking gross
I am totally ok with them happening, I know they are going to happen, I just wish they happened when Daddy is on duty. No, it's usually me. What the HELL do you do with poopy panties???!! WHERE are you supposed to clean those fuckers? The first time I rinsed them out in the tub...Oh Mother of Zues! GROSS!!! Not only do I have shitty panties, but now I have a shitty tub to clean. That was super dumb of me. My mother in law suggested using the toilet. Flushing with clean water and swirling the panties in the water as the poop is washed away...I'm afraid I'll let go and then clog the toilet so I've only tried that once. Not ok with it. Perhaps outside? I think not...I'll have ants everywhere looking for a free disgusting meal. Ewwww. So I've done what I'm hoping most parents do: check the poop. By Ellie's standards it's either going to be "mushy" or "nuggets." Nuggets are easy to get rid of...those little guys just wanna roll right out and plop into the toilet. Super. I can clean that, but "Mushy" panties...no, no, no, no...I've tossed probably 3 pairs of BGP's away on account that they were just too damn "Mushy."
#3 I'm-mad-at-you-and-don't-wanna-listen-so-I'm-just-going-to-Pee-on-your-damn-floor-accidents! Four (and Four lettered) words: Losing my damn patience.
This one. Oooohhh. This one takes the cake. This new "challenge" makes me want to ring my child with a princess jump rope while stepping on her new fish. First you get the attitude. Then you get the sassiness (all of which she's learned from her sister I think). Then she tells me "NO!" And then of course, I get the evil stare AND she pees!!! She knows she's doing something wrong, but she's going to pee on MY newly washed floor because she KNOWS that I just cleaned it, and that I'll have to do it AGAIN! Also, after a week and a half of potty training, she's pretty good at going pee-pee all by herself, so this is just out of SPITE. I've been demoted to an ass-wiper (fine by me really). She's going to start cleaning her own mess pretty soon. We'll nip that sassy-tell-me-no attitude REAL fast if she's mopping up pee with a towel. Gotta teach these gremlins some respect huh?! Am I right?! :)
So this is where we're at with Potty training...we're learning, and it's fun, and I HOPEFULLY just bought my last package of pull ups! H.O.P.E.F.U.L.L.Y
(If you've never seen the movie Despicable Me, you should go netflix the shit out of that movie. It is to die for. Your kids will love it and you will come away with a deep affection for Gru, the main character. Plus the soundtrack is really fun.)
"Lightbulb."
That must have been what happened in Ellie's head one morning, because she woke up out of the blue and refused a diaper. She wanted Big Girl Panties...so BGP's she received. On our first day, she ran to the bathroom screaming at the top of her lungs, "The Pee-Pee is coming! The Pee-Pee is coming!" All Paul Revere style. Day 2 was a little harder, it was super hot out so we didn't want to go outside and suffocate from the humidity...therefore the tv was on and she kind of lost focus for a little bit. I think we had 2 accidents that day. Then she just gave up. NOPE! Don't wanna! Not sitting on the potty. I hate stickers! I hate candy! Can't make me. That was her attitude for about a week. I think I jinxed it by posting something on facebook. I shouldn't have done that...that's all it takes is believing that it's happening, and then poof! it's gone. Blaaaaah!!!
So we go on our yearly vacation to Carlsbad State Beach and we're having a great time and out of the blue again, Ellie wants the Big Girl Panties. This time, I don't have any, they are hanging out at home in the drawer with a big 'useless' sign taped over them...so she has to settle for going to the bathroom with a pull up on. 2 days of potty training at the beach! Who would have thought?! As soon as we got home, it was BGP's again and it's been like this for over a week now! We've had a few accidents, but now we're getting her to go poop and pee on the potty every day!
Now for the "New challenges:"
#1: Public Bathrooms. Two words: fucking gross
How the hell am I supposed to train my 2 year old not to touch the toilet?! If she doesn't touch the sides of it to hold herself up, she falls in the hole (one of her biggest fears and why she DIDN'T want to sit on the potty to begin with). So I'm the "washing hands" Nazi from hell now. Those paper things are awesome, but Ellie loves to crinkle them, so we still end up touching the nasty toilet. So f'ing gross.
#2: Accidents. Three words: SO fucking gross
I am totally ok with them happening, I know they are going to happen, I just wish they happened when Daddy is on duty. No, it's usually me. What the HELL do you do with poopy panties???!! WHERE are you supposed to clean those fuckers? The first time I rinsed them out in the tub...Oh Mother of Zues! GROSS!!! Not only do I have shitty panties, but now I have a shitty tub to clean. That was super dumb of me. My mother in law suggested using the toilet. Flushing with clean water and swirling the panties in the water as the poop is washed away...I'm afraid I'll let go and then clog the toilet so I've only tried that once. Not ok with it. Perhaps outside? I think not...I'll have ants everywhere looking for a free disgusting meal. Ewwww. So I've done what I'm hoping most parents do: check the poop. By Ellie's standards it's either going to be "mushy" or "nuggets." Nuggets are easy to get rid of...those little guys just wanna roll right out and plop into the toilet. Super. I can clean that, but "Mushy" panties...no, no, no, no...I've tossed probably 3 pairs of BGP's away on account that they were just too damn "Mushy."
#3 I'm-mad-at-you-and-don't-wanna-listen-so-I'm-just-going-to-Pee-on-your-damn-floor-accidents! Four (and Four lettered) words: Losing my damn patience.
This one. Oooohhh. This one takes the cake. This new "challenge" makes me want to ring my child with a princess jump rope while stepping on her new fish. First you get the attitude. Then you get the sassiness (all of which she's learned from her sister I think). Then she tells me "NO!" And then of course, I get the evil stare AND she pees!!! She knows she's doing something wrong, but she's going to pee on MY newly washed floor because she KNOWS that I just cleaned it, and that I'll have to do it AGAIN! Also, after a week and a half of potty training, she's pretty good at going pee-pee all by herself, so this is just out of SPITE. I've been demoted to an ass-wiper (fine by me really). She's going to start cleaning her own mess pretty soon. We'll nip that sassy-tell-me-no attitude REAL fast if she's mopping up pee with a towel. Gotta teach these gremlins some respect huh?! Am I right?! :)
So this is where we're at with Potty training...we're learning, and it's fun, and I HOPEFULLY just bought my last package of pull ups! H.O.P.E.F.U.L.L.Y
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Blueberries
I had a great doctor appointment today. The last 8-10 times I've been in, the Doctor measures my belly, we listen to the heartbeat, he asks me if I have any concerns (I usually don't because really...it's my third kid. I could care less, I just want him out) and then we leave.
Well today my doctor was on vacation, no biggie, I got to see the nurse practitioner. While I'm waiting for her to enter the room, the nurse comes back in and tells me I have to put on a gown. I have to get swabbed for strep B. Again, I'm thinking no biggie.
Everything this morning was kind of a "no biggie" until Ellie pooped in the doctor's office. It was all downhill from that moment on...I forgot the diaper backpack in the car...she has some 70's retro style purple shorts on that are too tight for her booty, I'm thinking she's going to leak right out of her diaper and I'll be screwed. Meanwhile, I have NO pants on, a paper sheet tied around my waist, and the little waiting office/room is starting to ferment. To top that off, the windows won't open and Ellie is bored out of her mind.
I did what any parent would do: ignore the fact that she pooped. Nope, that TOTALLY didn't work!! Ellie tells me that she poops by squatting and grabbing her ass saying, "Mommy, it really squishy poopy." (I'm trying not to laugh of course). Then she starts singing a song about poop, really, really, loud...the walls are paper thin and I can hear the people in the next room laughing. Finally, she sits on the ground, puts her feet under her butt (kind of sitting on her knees and resting her booty on her feet) and starts moving from side to side singing, "squishing the poopy, Mommy!!!! I'm squishing the pooooo peeeeee!" I have to tell her 3 or four times to get the hell up and quit mushing her poop in her diaper. She thinks its funny.
Then I messed up. I checked the back of her pants to see how far she squished the poop... NOT.A.GOOD.IDEA. I ruined the rest of the good air in the room, completely. Now I'm suffocating from fecal air and in walks the doctor. Her face sours like she just bit into a 3 week old rotten lime, and she says, "Ohhh! I think someone pooped. Let's make this quick."
We were out in 2 minutes.
Back at the car, changing the diaper ... it's green. Absolutely green and putrid.
Here is the quadratic formula for that diaper recipe:
1 small carton of blueberries + 1 three year old - a diaper bag = green poop
I'll skip the blueberries at the store next time I think.
Well today my doctor was on vacation, no biggie, I got to see the nurse practitioner. While I'm waiting for her to enter the room, the nurse comes back in and tells me I have to put on a gown. I have to get swabbed for strep B. Again, I'm thinking no biggie.
Everything this morning was kind of a "no biggie" until Ellie pooped in the doctor's office. It was all downhill from that moment on...I forgot the diaper backpack in the car...she has some 70's retro style purple shorts on that are too tight for her booty, I'm thinking she's going to leak right out of her diaper and I'll be screwed. Meanwhile, I have NO pants on, a paper sheet tied around my waist, and the little waiting office/room is starting to ferment. To top that off, the windows won't open and Ellie is bored out of her mind.
I did what any parent would do: ignore the fact that she pooped. Nope, that TOTALLY didn't work!! Ellie tells me that she poops by squatting and grabbing her ass saying, "Mommy, it really squishy poopy." (I'm trying not to laugh of course). Then she starts singing a song about poop, really, really, loud...the walls are paper thin and I can hear the people in the next room laughing. Finally, she sits on the ground, puts her feet under her butt (kind of sitting on her knees and resting her booty on her feet) and starts moving from side to side singing, "squishing the poopy, Mommy!!!! I'm squishing the pooooo peeeeee!" I have to tell her 3 or four times to get the hell up and quit mushing her poop in her diaper. She thinks its funny.
Then I messed up. I checked the back of her pants to see how far she squished the poop... NOT.A.GOOD.IDEA. I ruined the rest of the good air in the room, completely. Now I'm suffocating from fecal air and in walks the doctor. Her face sours like she just bit into a 3 week old rotten lime, and she says, "Ohhh! I think someone pooped. Let's make this quick."
We were out in 2 minutes.
Back at the car, changing the diaper ... it's green. Absolutely green and putrid.
Here is the quadratic formula for that diaper recipe:
1 small carton of blueberries + 1 three year old - a diaper bag = green poop
I'll skip the blueberries at the store next time I think.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
1 Square at a time
Many of you know that I have had major "difficulties and challenges" in potty training Eleanore for the last 6 months... I use "difficulties and challenges" as a very loose, loose term because on more than one occasion (maybe closer to 10 occasions) she has been found without a diaper, drawing circles, faces and other magical creatures on some random flooring and/or cabnitry in our house (or someone ELSE's house) with of course, her favorite writing utensil, her own poop. So that scenario in itself is really above and beyond "difficult and challenging" ... it's more like: fucking discusting.
So you get the picture: my kid is a poop artist. Lately, we've had less poop drawings and more of what I will dub as "wiping incidents." Now a wiping incident is just as bad as a poop drawing. Ellie will go stealth. And I don't mean just quiet...she will hide, hide well, and not respond to anyone calling her...complete stealth. While she's invincible to the world, she will poop in her pull up. I have to use my super-human-8-month-prenant-detecting nose to find her usually. However, usually, she waits and watches me, to make sure I am doing something that I can't leave right away, like cooking dinner or washing the dishes. After pooping, she will go into our bedroom, take out the wipes and a new diaper from the basket at the foot of our bed, and procede to change her own diaper.
"Oh my gosh, she is so smart!" some of you would say... Yes, and no. Yes, she is smart, she can wipe her own ass...NO, she is still is 2 and no doubt, can't do anything without making a huge damn mess!! So we end up having a shit-streaked Ellie; she gets the front to back thing really well, but how FAR is really where the mess goes is what I'm talking about. Wiping from her butt to her lower back usually results in her just moving poop from one area to another. Then she will sit down on the carpet (yes I said carpet...another 2 things that don't mix well...poop & carpet) and again try to wipe herself. She comes out of our bedroom, smelling like poop, looking like a poop covered enclaire and totally proud of herself. She's a super kid. So we usually end up getting a REALLY good bath when those days come along.
Now on to the main point of this post today... yesterday, a good and wonderful friend of mine came over to say goodbye before she left on her 7 hour plane ride back to Fayatteville, North Carolina. We were sitting on the ground and Ellie was with us, climbing over and in between our legs, and the following conversation took place:
Miss Julie: "Ellie, when are you going to be a big girl?"
Ellie: "I am a big girl"
Miss Julie: "No, I thought big girls were the ones that go pee-pee on the potty by themselves. You still have a pull up on"
Ellie: "I be a big girl today"
That was the jist of it...Ellie lost interest in us and soon turned her focus to Kaia, Miss Julie's beautiful dog. Julie and I went on with our previous conversation and thought nothing of it.
As soon as Julie left, Ellie pooped, I caught the scent early (whew!), and I changed her. She wanted big girl panties, (no pull up) so I asked her why big girl panties now, and she simply said, "(something I couldn't understand here) because Miss Julie said so." Well, low and behold, Eleanore Leigh Phipps stayed dry in those big girl panties for almost 5 hours. Every 15 minutes she ran to the bathroom to try, screaming, "The Poo-Poo is coming" or "The Pee-Pee is coming" ...she reminded me of Paul Revere. And finally, at 8:36pm, she ACTUALLY went Pee-Pee in the potty all by herself...TWICE! (THANK YOU MISS JULIEEEEE!!!!!)
So for those other 50 times that she didn't go, but sat on the potty, she would pull one sqaure of toilet paper and wipe herself, over and over again. I think she wasted a whole roll in those 5 hours and probably 45 gallons of water from flushing the toilet unneccesarily...but who gives a flying Ellie shit!! I was so stoked that she actually sat and peed those 2 times!!!
So this morning, we're in big girl panties again...we've gone through 10 sqaures of toilet paper, but we'll get there, eventually! One square at a time.
So you get the picture: my kid is a poop artist. Lately, we've had less poop drawings and more of what I will dub as "wiping incidents." Now a wiping incident is just as bad as a poop drawing. Ellie will go stealth. And I don't mean just quiet...she will hide, hide well, and not respond to anyone calling her...complete stealth. While she's invincible to the world, she will poop in her pull up. I have to use my super-human-8-month-prenant-detecting nose to find her usually. However, usually, she waits and watches me, to make sure I am doing something that I can't leave right away, like cooking dinner or washing the dishes. After pooping, she will go into our bedroom, take out the wipes and a new diaper from the basket at the foot of our bed, and procede to change her own diaper.
"Oh my gosh, she is so smart!" some of you would say... Yes, and no. Yes, she is smart, she can wipe her own ass...NO, she is still is 2 and no doubt, can't do anything without making a huge damn mess!! So we end up having a shit-streaked Ellie; she gets the front to back thing really well, but how FAR is really where the mess goes is what I'm talking about. Wiping from her butt to her lower back usually results in her just moving poop from one area to another. Then she will sit down on the carpet (yes I said carpet...another 2 things that don't mix well...poop & carpet) and again try to wipe herself. She comes out of our bedroom, smelling like poop, looking like a poop covered enclaire and totally proud of herself. She's a super kid. So we usually end up getting a REALLY good bath when those days come along.
Now on to the main point of this post today... yesterday, a good and wonderful friend of mine came over to say goodbye before she left on her 7 hour plane ride back to Fayatteville, North Carolina. We were sitting on the ground and Ellie was with us, climbing over and in between our legs, and the following conversation took place:
Miss Julie: "Ellie, when are you going to be a big girl?"
Ellie: "I am a big girl"
Miss Julie: "No, I thought big girls were the ones that go pee-pee on the potty by themselves. You still have a pull up on"
Ellie: "I be a big girl today"
That was the jist of it...Ellie lost interest in us and soon turned her focus to Kaia, Miss Julie's beautiful dog. Julie and I went on with our previous conversation and thought nothing of it.
As soon as Julie left, Ellie pooped, I caught the scent early (whew!), and I changed her. She wanted big girl panties, (no pull up) so I asked her why big girl panties now, and she simply said, "(something I couldn't understand here) because Miss Julie said so." Well, low and behold, Eleanore Leigh Phipps stayed dry in those big girl panties for almost 5 hours. Every 15 minutes she ran to the bathroom to try, screaming, "The Poo-Poo is coming" or "The Pee-Pee is coming" ...she reminded me of Paul Revere. And finally, at 8:36pm, she ACTUALLY went Pee-Pee in the potty all by herself...TWICE! (THANK YOU MISS JULIEEEEE!!!!!)
So for those other 50 times that she didn't go, but sat on the potty, she would pull one sqaure of toilet paper and wipe herself, over and over again. I think she wasted a whole roll in those 5 hours and probably 45 gallons of water from flushing the toilet unneccesarily...but who gives a flying Ellie shit!! I was so stoked that she actually sat and peed those 2 times!!!
So this morning, we're in big girl panties again...we've gone through 10 sqaures of toilet paper, but we'll get there, eventually! One square at a time.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Hair Clips and noses don't mix
Being 8 months pregnant in the summer is one of the crappiest things I can think of going through. Luckily, I've done it now THREE times! Whoohoo on my timing huh!?! So I can safely say, I'm an expert. One of the best things about being pregnant in the summer, is the lovely insomnia. Last night I was up at least 5 times. My bladder is the size of a pea. This S.U.N of mine likes to bounce on it like a rubber bouncy ball. So when I finally get to sleep at 4am, and I get those 3 hours of wonderful sleep, it's a big bonus. What is NOT a bonus is the manner of waking up. Today, it was my precious little Ellie and one of my plastic hair clips. Let's just say, my nose is sore and scratched. She thought it would be a great idea to pinch my nose with my hair clip to get me up. Granted, I had been ignoring her for about 10 minutes while she patted my back and said my name softly over and over, "Mommy, it's time to wake up, I want some serrrllll (cereal)"... tomorrow I'm definitely getting up before her, but only if I sleep well. Soooo very doubtful. It will probably be a cup of cold water on my face tomorrow. Hopefully, she's not that smart yet.
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