I have many pictures to upload from last week/weekend, and will get around to it one of these days. For now, though, M. and I are being exhausted by a little girl who is waking up multiple times a night. Not because I jinxed myself by telling the Blogosphere what a wonderful baby she is (wonderful baby she definitely is), but because her good humor is being challenged by an intestinal malady.
What type of intestinal malady, you might ask? Hmm. Well, it started as what we thought was some run-of-the-mill diarrhea on Monday (preceeded by a couple of messy blow-outs the day before). My mind immediately turned to swine flu, and I waited with baited breath for the fever, vomiting, congestion, etc that I was sure was headed our way, a mere week before the kids are scheduled to be vaccinated (hope I'm not jinxing myself on that one, ye keepers of the much desired but rarely obtained swine flu vaccine!! (Shakes fist)). But no other symptoms, aside from a lovely blushing rose-colored rash on her hiney and some fussiness, materialized. We kept Lucy home from daycare for the requisite 24 hours, and when things didn't look better on the loose stool front Wednesday morning, kept her home again. Since Tuesday night was fraught with middle-of-the-night wake-ups and fussiness, we also planned a trip to the doctor.
M. and I envisioned the typical doctor's appointment with an over-reacting parent. Temperature, ears, throat, lungs are all checked, to no avail. Parents are told, "It's just a virus, dummy, wait it out and hydrate," or "Loose stools are a common sign of teething, dummy, wait it out and hydrate." Perhaps with a slightly less condescending tone, of course. Never did we imagine what we (M., really, since he was on SAHD duty while I was at work) would be told that Lucy has a protein intolerance. Yes, you heard that right, suddenly, at over 6 months old, apparently Lucy can no longer tolerate the milk protein in her formula.
We are a bit dumfounded. Other than Lucy's initial problems with infrequent pooping when she was a newborn, we have had no reason to suspect that she had any problems with her formula (Enfamil Gentlease). For months she has been sleeping well, very happy, very few bouts of diaper rash, only one runny nose - basically no symptoms of an intolerance (different from an allergy, by the way, though I'm not exactly sure how). So we think the doctor may be jumping the gun a little. The diagnosis is based on some blood that was found in Lucy's stool. My first thought is that the blood could be from ALL THE POOPING she's been doing, but what do I know, right?
According to the doctor this could be temporary. We are putting Lucy on Alimentum (hydrolized) formula, and if things get better apparently we can try her back on her regular formula in a few weeks (once her intestines are healed). We also have the fun of collecting stool samples for testing over the next few days (I suppose I shouldn't complain since it's just a swipe of the dirty diaper, but still, ew).
Again, I am skeptical. Anything I have ever read about protein intolerance is that "temporary" = "a couple of years." As in, maybe when your kid is 2 or 3 they can handle drinking cow's milk. Not 4 weeks temporary. And I'm not sure why she would seem so healthy, and then suddenly present with an intolerance. Also, why, exactly, are we ruling out a viral or bacterial infection just because there was blood in Lucy's stool? (I guess the doctor is also basing this on the lack of any other symptoms - like vomiting? - that often co-present.) So, yeah, lots of questions remain. We'll just see how things go. We are following the doctor's suggestion because at this point, we just want Lucy to be comfortable again. If it has a chance of working, we'll try it.
On a different note, this is apparently my 100th post. Woo hoo!
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poop. Show all posts
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Who Does Number Two Work For?
I'm so sorry, but this post is going to have to enter the poop realm. With the occasional exception, I have been trying to stay away from the trifecta of annoying* parenting conversation topics: poop, developmental milestones, and breastfeeding. It's really a quad-fecta that includes sleep, but I post about that all the time so I am intentionally leaving it out in the hopes that you won't notice how truly boring my blog is (totally making my own word there, by the way, you like it?).
Anyway, er, yes, the poop. As I have mentioned in passing before (a mention in passing TOTALLY doesn't count as annoying), Lucy occasionally has some trouble pooping. It has actually, amazingly, been less of an issue lately, as she has been pooping nearly every day since she started daycare (see, I didn't blog about THAT). But this weekend she was, shall we say, lagging behind a bit. Overdue for some Number Two. And quite fussy for much of her awake time all day Saturday and Sunday. I chalked it up to crappy napping, a common problem for little L.E. But as Finn, M. and I were eating dinner on Sunday night, Lucy finally let loose, inspired by some rockin' good play time in her bouncy chair.
Thinking that I had the easier job, I offered to change Lucy's diaper if M. would clean up Finn and get him down from the dinner table. It quickly became apparent, however, that I unwittingly set myself up for the clean up of the worst poop-splosion I have ever seen. I picked up a smiling Lucy (should have been a clue right there - of course she was grinning like an idiot, she was finally empty of massive amounts of poop), and soon realized that my hands were gripping a wet onesie. And wet jeans. Both of which were wet ALL around the waisteband. I looked down at the hapless bouncy chair, and saw the wetness echoed all over that fabric, too. Uh oh.
Worst clean-up EVER! Poop on Lucy's stomach. Poop on her legs. Poop on her hands. Poop on MY hands. Poop on the changing pad. For all I know, poop on her poor little head (always a challenge to get those pooped-on onesies off without some collateral damage). I managed to keep it down to a 10 or so wipe event, but only because I had M. start the water for a bath as soon as I realized the extent of the damage. Even though it wasn't supposed to be a bath night.
All is right in the world now, of course. The poop is gone, the baby is clean-smelling and asleep, and I rewarded my efforts with a nice glass of Pinot Grigio once the kids were asleep. A lesson has been learned, however. Next time, I'm choosing the Finn clean-up!
Since I am sharing poop stories here, I may as well drag Finn into this, mostly because I would like a written record of his quirks to reflect on when we're old and gray.
Finn is a phenomenal potty pooper. Really great. He hasn't had a poop accident since early July or June. Not only that, but he's just GOOD at it. It doesn't take forever, he knows when he has to go, and he gets the job done. He'll do it at home or out in public, and he's not scared of "falling in." But he does have some rituals that he seems to follow every time he poops (it would be interesting to know if he does the same at school, too).
When Finn first determines that he as to poop, he tells us and makes a beeline for the bathroom. When he gets there, we help him pull down his shorts and underwear, which he then kicks off completely. And EVERY time, as he kicks them off, he says "It's easier if I take them off." Then, in a gymnastic-like move, he straddles the seat and scoots himself back as far as his little hiney can go. YOU know, so that when he pees, it stays in the bowl (I'm actually quite grateful for this). He makes whichever parent is standing guard hold his shirt up (way, way up) because he is convinced that otherwise, it would get peed on. Said parent is not allowed to lean against the sink or the wall to support themselves as they crouch awkwardly to hold this shirt up. Oh no. You try it, you get reprimanded. And then, EVERY time, Finn channels Haley Joel Osment in the Sixth Sense and whispers, "I hear poop coming."
Then, magically, it does come. And Finn, gripping the seat of the toilet tightly, leans over to watch it intently once it's in the bowl, making note of whether it sinks or floats, or whether it disappears down the drain.
The end.
*Don't get me wrong, I don't find those topics annoying. I could go on and on all day about them. Seriously. Ask my co-worker Donna. I just imagine people who don't have small kids/are not planning on having small kids soon are not quite as interested in them.
Anyway, er, yes, the poop. As I have mentioned in passing before (a mention in passing TOTALLY doesn't count as annoying), Lucy occasionally has some trouble pooping. It has actually, amazingly, been less of an issue lately, as she has been pooping nearly every day since she started daycare (see, I didn't blog about THAT). But this weekend she was, shall we say, lagging behind a bit. Overdue for some Number Two. And quite fussy for much of her awake time all day Saturday and Sunday. I chalked it up to crappy napping, a common problem for little L.E. But as Finn, M. and I were eating dinner on Sunday night, Lucy finally let loose, inspired by some rockin' good play time in her bouncy chair.
Thinking that I had the easier job, I offered to change Lucy's diaper if M. would clean up Finn and get him down from the dinner table. It quickly became apparent, however, that I unwittingly set myself up for the clean up of the worst poop-splosion I have ever seen. I picked up a smiling Lucy (should have been a clue right there - of course she was grinning like an idiot, she was finally empty of massive amounts of poop), and soon realized that my hands were gripping a wet onesie. And wet jeans. Both of which were wet ALL around the waisteband. I looked down at the hapless bouncy chair, and saw the wetness echoed all over that fabric, too. Uh oh.
Worst clean-up EVER! Poop on Lucy's stomach. Poop on her legs. Poop on her hands. Poop on MY hands. Poop on the changing pad. For all I know, poop on her poor little head (always a challenge to get those pooped-on onesies off without some collateral damage). I managed to keep it down to a 10 or so wipe event, but only because I had M. start the water for a bath as soon as I realized the extent of the damage. Even though it wasn't supposed to be a bath night.
All is right in the world now, of course. The poop is gone, the baby is clean-smelling and asleep, and I rewarded my efforts with a nice glass of Pinot Grigio once the kids were asleep. A lesson has been learned, however. Next time, I'm choosing the Finn clean-up!
Since I am sharing poop stories here, I may as well drag Finn into this, mostly because I would like a written record of his quirks to reflect on when we're old and gray.
Finn is a phenomenal potty pooper. Really great. He hasn't had a poop accident since early July or June. Not only that, but he's just GOOD at it. It doesn't take forever, he knows when he has to go, and he gets the job done. He'll do it at home or out in public, and he's not scared of "falling in." But he does have some rituals that he seems to follow every time he poops (it would be interesting to know if he does the same at school, too).
When Finn first determines that he as to poop, he tells us and makes a beeline for the bathroom. When he gets there, we help him pull down his shorts and underwear, which he then kicks off completely. And EVERY time, as he kicks them off, he says "It's easier if I take them off." Then, in a gymnastic-like move, he straddles the seat and scoots himself back as far as his little hiney can go. YOU know, so that when he pees, it stays in the bowl (I'm actually quite grateful for this). He makes whichever parent is standing guard hold his shirt up (way, way up) because he is convinced that otherwise, it would get peed on. Said parent is not allowed to lean against the sink or the wall to support themselves as they crouch awkwardly to hold this shirt up. Oh no. You try it, you get reprimanded. And then, EVERY time, Finn channels Haley Joel Osment in the Sixth Sense and whispers, "I hear poop coming."
Then, magically, it does come. And Finn, gripping the seat of the toilet tightly, leans over to watch it intently once it's in the bowl, making note of whether it sinks or floats, or whether it disappears down the drain.
The end.
*Don't get me wrong, I don't find those topics annoying. I could go on and on all day about them. Seriously. Ask my co-worker Donna. I just imagine people who don't have small kids/are not planning on having small kids soon are not quite as interested in them.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Here We Go Again?
Desperate and at my breaking point last night, I cried to M. over the phone that I was bringing Lucy to the doctor's today, because something HAS to be wrong with her (I also went on and on about what a horrible mother I am, and how we are never, ever having another child. Ah, what sleep deprivation will do to your mental state...). My sweet baby, who had been going to sleep with relatively little assistance (though some assistance was needed, she is just a baby after all!) was now refusing to sleep AT ALL. Bedtime was a 3-hour fiasco, which was resolved only when I somehow got Lucy to fall into a tentative sleep and laid her down in bed with me so I could finally get some fitful sleep (note, co-sleeping when you are praying fervently that your baby does not wake up is not restful). Nap times yesterday were a joke, except for the one where she slept on me while I caught up on the last several Grey's Anatomy shows. When she was awake she was constantly fussing/crying and looking for SOMETHING to satisfy her. But when I offered a bottle (and even the breast, at one point, so you KNOW I was desperate since I've basically sworn off that frustration), she would eat a little and cry, then eat a little more and cry more. At the bottle, she has been making lots of sounds like she is choking and swallowing way too much air, arching her back, crying. Signs we had been seeing with her for the last few weeks during one or two bottles a day, but signs we basically ignored since she seemed otherwise content. But Lucy is content no longer, so it seemed pertinent to try and do something about it. Or maybe I just get anxious when we haven't been to the doctor in over two weeks :-). But why oh why do things like this always seem to come to a head when one parent is out of town??
And so I did bring Lucy to the doctor's office, though things always seem a little less dire by the light of day. Skipping to the end result, I just filled a prescription for Pre.vacid. Thus, it appears we are traveling down the road of Reflux once again. The way is very familiar to us, as this is something we struggled through with Finn until he was about 15 months old.
Here are the symptoms/behaviors I discussed with the pediatrician:
- at some bottles (in particular, the first one of the morning and the late afternoon/evening ones), Lucy will choke, strain, gulp air, arch her back, cry, and have a lot of gas (of the burping variety). Some bottles (like the middle of the night ones), these symptoms are not present.
- She spits up a few times a day. Not massive amounts, and not with every feeding, although this may be because we are ultra paranoid about not laying her down right after a feeding. Also, her crib mattress has been elevated at one end from Day 1.
- She is gassy (of the farting variety) and only poops every 2-3 days, and that's usually only if I "induce" the poop (ie take her temperature, give her half an ounce of water).
- Used to sleep well (at least two long naps in her crib, with a couple other shorter ones), and slept between every feeding. Went down for the night relatively easily at around 7 pm with a minimum of rocking, and we would have to wake her most nights at 10 pm for one last feeding of the "day." Now we can rock her or hold her and walk around with her for 45 minutes and she still won't go to sleep. If she does fall asleep, she stirs as soon as we lay her down, or 10 minutes later (just as we start to get comfy in our own bed...). Then we have to start the process all over again. We can start "bedtime" at 6:30 or 7:00, and she won't fall asleep until around 10 pm; this after much angst on our part, much walking around/rocking her, and several extra ounces of food to see if she's just hungry.
- Seems to be eating too much for a baby her age. I figure she's getting between 28-32 ounces a day, when she should be getting around 24. In the last 20 days, she has gained 32 ounces! She now weighs in at 10 pounds 8 ounces. Yikes! That doesn't seem healthy to me. I like a chubby baby, but not a Goliath!
- She is fussier now than she was 5 days ago (when the sleep problems began to manifest).
I am hesitant about this - to me, Lucy has not shown classic symptoms of reflux, aside from the arching at the bottle (which does not happen at every feeding). She has kind of a hodge podge of issues. Yes, she spits up, yes, she gets the hiccups, but doesn't every baby? It doesn't seem abnormally excessive to me. Also, she still doesn't poop regularly, so couldn't some of these symptoms because by other digestive discomforts? Or maybe this is related to a growth spurt (not sure about that one, though, since feeding her doesn't seem to make things better). The fussiness could be related to being extremely overtired, SINCE SHE WON'T SLEEP.
Regardless, I feel like we need to try SOMETHING to make Lucy more comfortable. With reflux meds, we can pretty quickly assess whether this is truly her problem or not, and I'm happy that the pediatrician agreed to skip over Zan.tac (worthless, in my opinion) in favor of the stronger family of PPI (proton pump inhibitor) meds. I'm just not satisfied with the approach that some doctors take, where if a baby is gaining weight well, other symptoms are ignored as developmental "issues" that need to be outgrown. While I'm sure that if Lucy does have reflux she will outgrow it, in my mind that doesn't mean she should spend the next year of her life uncomfortable just because she is still able to pack on the pounds. Doctors should strive for an acceptable quality of life for babies (and thus, their families), not just keeping them on the growth charts. I'm glad this pediatrician shares my mindset, and was even willing to let me recommend the medication I wanted. Have I mentioned before how much I love the entire practice?
We should know in the next few days whether the medicine is helping or not. The doctor also recommended that we add some oatmeal cereal to Lucy's bottles. According to her, this will do three things: 1) Help keep the food down in Lucy's stomach; 2) May cause her to eat less (she will feel fuller, thus may eat a more appropriate amount for her age); 3) May help her poop (rice cereal is constipating, but oatmeal can help bring on the poop). I'm hesitant to do this. I know babies' stomachs aren't prepared to digest cereals yet. And we tried thickening Finn's bottles with rice cereal back in the day, but it didn't stop the spit up (just made it chunkier). Also, Lucy doesn't really seem "constipated," her poop is normal looking when it eventually appears. I just need to make her go more often somehow, without the use of a thermometer! Any positive or negative experiences with thickening bottles with cereal at the tender age of 5 weeks? Also, if you did do it successfully, what nipples did you use? I remember we had a really tough time finding a happy medium of a nipple hole that was big enough to let the thickened milk/formula through but not totally choke Finn.
And so I did bring Lucy to the doctor's office, though things always seem a little less dire by the light of day. Skipping to the end result, I just filled a prescription for Pre.vacid. Thus, it appears we are traveling down the road of Reflux once again. The way is very familiar to us, as this is something we struggled through with Finn until he was about 15 months old.
Here are the symptoms/behaviors I discussed with the pediatrician:
- at some bottles (in particular, the first one of the morning and the late afternoon/evening ones), Lucy will choke, strain, gulp air, arch her back, cry, and have a lot of gas (of the burping variety). Some bottles (like the middle of the night ones), these symptoms are not present.
- She spits up a few times a day. Not massive amounts, and not with every feeding, although this may be because we are ultra paranoid about not laying her down right after a feeding. Also, her crib mattress has been elevated at one end from Day 1.
- She is gassy (of the farting variety) and only poops every 2-3 days, and that's usually only if I "induce" the poop (ie take her temperature, give her half an ounce of water).
- Used to sleep well (at least two long naps in her crib, with a couple other shorter ones), and slept between every feeding. Went down for the night relatively easily at around 7 pm with a minimum of rocking, and we would have to wake her most nights at 10 pm for one last feeding of the "day." Now we can rock her or hold her and walk around with her for 45 minutes and she still won't go to sleep. If she does fall asleep, she stirs as soon as we lay her down, or 10 minutes later (just as we start to get comfy in our own bed...). Then we have to start the process all over again. We can start "bedtime" at 6:30 or 7:00, and she won't fall asleep until around 10 pm; this after much angst on our part, much walking around/rocking her, and several extra ounces of food to see if she's just hungry.
- Seems to be eating too much for a baby her age. I figure she's getting between 28-32 ounces a day, when she should be getting around 24. In the last 20 days, she has gained 32 ounces! She now weighs in at 10 pounds 8 ounces. Yikes! That doesn't seem healthy to me. I like a chubby baby, but not a Goliath!
- She is fussier now than she was 5 days ago (when the sleep problems began to manifest).
I am hesitant about this - to me, Lucy has not shown classic symptoms of reflux, aside from the arching at the bottle (which does not happen at every feeding). She has kind of a hodge podge of issues. Yes, she spits up, yes, she gets the hiccups, but doesn't every baby? It doesn't seem abnormally excessive to me. Also, she still doesn't poop regularly, so couldn't some of these symptoms because by other digestive discomforts? Or maybe this is related to a growth spurt (not sure about that one, though, since feeding her doesn't seem to make things better). The fussiness could be related to being extremely overtired, SINCE SHE WON'T SLEEP.
Regardless, I feel like we need to try SOMETHING to make Lucy more comfortable. With reflux meds, we can pretty quickly assess whether this is truly her problem or not, and I'm happy that the pediatrician agreed to skip over Zan.tac (worthless, in my opinion) in favor of the stronger family of PPI (proton pump inhibitor) meds. I'm just not satisfied with the approach that some doctors take, where if a baby is gaining weight well, other symptoms are ignored as developmental "issues" that need to be outgrown. While I'm sure that if Lucy does have reflux she will outgrow it, in my mind that doesn't mean she should spend the next year of her life uncomfortable just because she is still able to pack on the pounds. Doctors should strive for an acceptable quality of life for babies (and thus, their families), not just keeping them on the growth charts. I'm glad this pediatrician shares my mindset, and was even willing to let me recommend the medication I wanted. Have I mentioned before how much I love the entire practice?
We should know in the next few days whether the medicine is helping or not. The doctor also recommended that we add some oatmeal cereal to Lucy's bottles. According to her, this will do three things: 1) Help keep the food down in Lucy's stomach; 2) May cause her to eat less (she will feel fuller, thus may eat a more appropriate amount for her age); 3) May help her poop (rice cereal is constipating, but oatmeal can help bring on the poop). I'm hesitant to do this. I know babies' stomachs aren't prepared to digest cereals yet. And we tried thickening Finn's bottles with rice cereal back in the day, but it didn't stop the spit up (just made it chunkier). Also, Lucy doesn't really seem "constipated," her poop is normal looking when it eventually appears. I just need to make her go more often somehow, without the use of a thermometer! Any positive or negative experiences with thickening bottles with cereal at the tender age of 5 weeks? Also, if you did do it successfully, what nipples did you use? I remember we had a really tough time finding a happy medium of a nipple hole that was big enough to let the thickened milk/formula through but not totally choke Finn.
Monday, May 25, 2009
One Month
We are officially one month into this whole "parenting two kids" experiment. Finn is now 31 months old, and Lucy is one month old. I don't suppose we can declare negative findings, and scrap the whole venture in favor of a new line of questioning, eh? Just kidding, of course! We are slowly getting used to our new life, and finding ways to enjoy it in spite of the pandemonium (which there is, in spades). And M. and I both agree that time seems to be flying. Lucy is one month old, already? It seems like in no time at all she's going to be sitting up on her own, eating table foods, talking...
A lot has happened in the last month. Finn has started talking in a strange accent, and we have no idea where he is getting it. "Uncle Andrew" has become "oncle ondrew." Doctor is now "dawktor," and car is "cawr." It's almost like he's picking up a hybrid New York/Bostonian accent - so strange! It's driving M. nuts, and I'm fairly certain that if my great grandmother Nana D. was still around, she'd be mortified. Also, in a step that has not hit the blog yet because honestly, I'm a bit to tired to contemplate it's ramifications, Finn has started to wear big boy underwear at school. Yes, just what I wanted during M.'s first week back to work - a two and a half year old who comes home from school in underwear, doesn't want to put on a diaper, but also doesn't want to sit on the potty when I ask him. Aargh. One more thing to worry about during the mad dinner prep/pre-bed rush. We've had some successes, and some, ahem, not-so-successful evenings.
"Oncle Ondrew" and Lucy
Finn is giving us a lot of grief, but at the same time he is such a joy to be around. He is developing such a sense of humor, and when he's not mad at us, he really seems to like to be around us (oh, if only that could last through the teenage years!). And every day I look at his round little face and beautiful blue eyes (those eye lashes seem to get thicker and longer each day!), and I'm amazed by how cute and adorable he is. He is wonderful with his sister, giving her kisses and hugs whenever he can, and trying to comfort her with a "Lucy, it's OK" when she cries. He even tries, on occasion, to use his "inside voice" when she is sleeping (only on occasion, though!).
Goofball
Finn as an Alligator
In the last month, Lucy has gotten bigger, cuddlier, and more aware. She is definitely starting to smile - I've been bestowed a few, but she seems to like to save them for her older brother. She's already fascinated by Finn, apparently, a feeling that I'm sure will grow and grow over the next several months. She is a pretty good sleeper, going about 4 hours between feedings each night, and is a far better napper than her brother was as a baby. She sleeps best all swaddled up in a blanket in her crib - she's not much of a car seat or swing fan. I fear M. and I don't give rise to flexible, "sleep anywhere" babies, so we will be a bit chained to our house for nap times over the next couple of years, but that's OK.
I'm both looking forward to all the developing and growing that Lucy will be doing over the next few months, and dreading it. I can't wait to interact with her even more, but at the same time I want her, my last baby, to take it slow and stay my baby for a long time. With maybe just that whole "sleeping through the night" developmental stage reached as soon as possible :-).
Cute outfit, about an hour before it was pooped on
All dressed up for her first BBQ party
ps - re: the big boy underwear - how is one supposed to deal with accidents of the #2 variety? Finn has had two such incidents at school over the past week, and while it's tempting to throw each offending pair of underwear away, we could go broke very quickly shelling out money for new Mater and Lightning McQueen underpants. Can the poop-filled pants that are sent home in a little plastic baggy be thrown in with the wash? Do you hose them off first? What are your tips? Yuck!
A lot has happened in the last month. Finn has started talking in a strange accent, and we have no idea where he is getting it. "Uncle Andrew" has become "oncle ondrew." Doctor is now "dawktor," and car is "cawr." It's almost like he's picking up a hybrid New York/Bostonian accent - so strange! It's driving M. nuts, and I'm fairly certain that if my great grandmother Nana D. was still around, she'd be mortified. Also, in a step that has not hit the blog yet because honestly, I'm a bit to tired to contemplate it's ramifications, Finn has started to wear big boy underwear at school. Yes, just what I wanted during M.'s first week back to work - a two and a half year old who comes home from school in underwear, doesn't want to put on a diaper, but also doesn't want to sit on the potty when I ask him. Aargh. One more thing to worry about during the mad dinner prep/pre-bed rush. We've had some successes, and some, ahem, not-so-successful evenings.
"Oncle Ondrew" and LucyFinn is giving us a lot of grief, but at the same time he is such a joy to be around. He is developing such a sense of humor, and when he's not mad at us, he really seems to like to be around us (oh, if only that could last through the teenage years!). And every day I look at his round little face and beautiful blue eyes (those eye lashes seem to get thicker and longer each day!), and I'm amazed by how cute and adorable he is. He is wonderful with his sister, giving her kisses and hugs whenever he can, and trying to comfort her with a "Lucy, it's OK" when she cries. He even tries, on occasion, to use his "inside voice" when she is sleeping (only on occasion, though!).
Goofball
Finn as an AlligatorIn the last month, Lucy has gotten bigger, cuddlier, and more aware. She is definitely starting to smile - I've been bestowed a few, but she seems to like to save them for her older brother. She's already fascinated by Finn, apparently, a feeling that I'm sure will grow and grow over the next several months. She is a pretty good sleeper, going about 4 hours between feedings each night, and is a far better napper than her brother was as a baby. She sleeps best all swaddled up in a blanket in her crib - she's not much of a car seat or swing fan. I fear M. and I don't give rise to flexible, "sleep anywhere" babies, so we will be a bit chained to our house for nap times over the next couple of years, but that's OK.
I'm both looking forward to all the developing and growing that Lucy will be doing over the next few months, and dreading it. I can't wait to interact with her even more, but at the same time I want her, my last baby, to take it slow and stay my baby for a long time. With maybe just that whole "sleeping through the night" developmental stage reached as soon as possible :-).
Cute outfit, about an hour before it was pooped on
All dressed up for her first BBQ party
ps - re: the big boy underwear - how is one supposed to deal with accidents of the #2 variety? Finn has had two such incidents at school over the past week, and while it's tempting to throw each offending pair of underwear away, we could go broke very quickly shelling out money for new Mater and Lightning McQueen underpants. Can the poop-filled pants that are sent home in a little plastic baggy be thrown in with the wash? Do you hose them off first? What are your tips? Yuck!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
We Have...
Poop. In the potty. And I don't quite know what to do with it.
So strange, because on Thursday night, I actually dreamed that Finn pooped in the potty. I don't know why - we haven't been pushing the potty training much at all (you may remember from a previous post a few months ago that I am reluctant to give up diapers just yet). It was not a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind. But I had the dream - I even told Outnumbered Gal about it at work on Friday.
Finn has been regularly peeing in the potty a couple times a day for a few weeks now - usually when his diaper is changed at daycare, and then at night before bed. But we've never entered #2 territory - that has been deposited solely in his diaper. Last night, I plopped a somewhat resistant Finn on the toilet before bedtime, expecting the usual liquid issuance. He said something about poopy, but I just nodded and said "Mm hmm," because he has been known to mix up poopy and pee-pee - lots of instances of "I pooped," then finding that there's only pee in his diaper. Plus, as I mentioned, he had never pooped on the toilet before. But to my surprise, there was suddenly poop. And then some more. And then, as he made me read him a book (twice), there was even more. I was a bit flabbergasted and at a loss as to how to handle it. I mean, I pictured this as a momentous occasion, one that would require all kinds of celebration and treats in order to show Finn that THIS was GOOD, that we ENCOURAGE this.
But it was just before bed, and I was home alone (M. is out of town). I couldn't ply him with treats and rewards, or shout and dance around the house - it was bedtime, after all. When one is going it alone at bedtime, the last thing you want to do is get your child all riled up before turning out the lights.
So I did the best I could, oohing and ahhing and telling Finn how proud of him I was. I'm not holding my breath that we'll get a repeat performance any time soon, of course, as I think it was complete chance (or perhaps the THREE helpings of baked beans he had at dinner Wednesday night) that caused this. But it's a start!
One for the (mythical, as yet unstarted) baby book? Do I mark it down: First Poopy on the Potty - January 9, 2009??
Another question: How exactly doth one properly clean up a child that has just pooped on the potty? I'm going to start keeping a container of wipes near the toilet (regular TP just does not get the job done), but this kid has some super strong butt clenching muscles. I'm basically forced to gingerly pick him up under his arms, holding his body as far away from mine as possible, and rush him to his changing table so I can do a thorough cleaning job. Not exactly convenient, you know? Is it better to help them clean up while they are still sitting on the potty? Also, if I have trouble getting Finn clean, how on earth can I expect him to ever do the job himself?? Good lord, I'll be wiping his hiney for years at this rate.
PS - sorry for the non-parents about such a poop-heavy post!
So strange, because on Thursday night, I actually dreamed that Finn pooped in the potty. I don't know why - we haven't been pushing the potty training much at all (you may remember from a previous post a few months ago that I am reluctant to give up diapers just yet). It was not a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind. But I had the dream - I even told Outnumbered Gal about it at work on Friday.
Finn has been regularly peeing in the potty a couple times a day for a few weeks now - usually when his diaper is changed at daycare, and then at night before bed. But we've never entered #2 territory - that has been deposited solely in his diaper. Last night, I plopped a somewhat resistant Finn on the toilet before bedtime, expecting the usual liquid issuance. He said something about poopy, but I just nodded and said "Mm hmm," because he has been known to mix up poopy and pee-pee - lots of instances of "I pooped," then finding that there's only pee in his diaper. Plus, as I mentioned, he had never pooped on the toilet before. But to my surprise, there was suddenly poop. And then some more. And then, as he made me read him a book (twice), there was even more. I was a bit flabbergasted and at a loss as to how to handle it. I mean, I pictured this as a momentous occasion, one that would require all kinds of celebration and treats in order to show Finn that THIS was GOOD, that we ENCOURAGE this.
But it was just before bed, and I was home alone (M. is out of town). I couldn't ply him with treats and rewards, or shout and dance around the house - it was bedtime, after all. When one is going it alone at bedtime, the last thing you want to do is get your child all riled up before turning out the lights.
So I did the best I could, oohing and ahhing and telling Finn how proud of him I was. I'm not holding my breath that we'll get a repeat performance any time soon, of course, as I think it was complete chance (or perhaps the THREE helpings of baked beans he had at dinner Wednesday night) that caused this. But it's a start!
One for the (mythical, as yet unstarted) baby book? Do I mark it down: First Poopy on the Potty - January 9, 2009??
Another question: How exactly doth one properly clean up a child that has just pooped on the potty? I'm going to start keeping a container of wipes near the toilet (regular TP just does not get the job done), but this kid has some super strong butt clenching muscles. I'm basically forced to gingerly pick him up under his arms, holding his body as far away from mine as possible, and rush him to his changing table so I can do a thorough cleaning job. Not exactly convenient, you know? Is it better to help them clean up while they are still sitting on the potty? Also, if I have trouble getting Finn clean, how on earth can I expect him to ever do the job himself?? Good lord, I'll be wiping his hiney for years at this rate.
PS - sorry for the non-parents about such a poop-heavy post!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
When is a booger not a booger?
As A. has previously written, Finn has graduated from crib to Big Boy Bed. Thankfully, the transition has gone smoother than expected; no major crying fits and only one boom! (which I mostly slept through). That's what made naptime on Sunday so frustrating. After 4 nights of peaceful slumber and a 3 hour nap on Saturday, we were both expecting a nice relaxing Sunday. Coincidentally, naptime corresponds to the 1pm start time of NFL games and since all chores had been completed I was looking forward to settling into the couch to watch some football.
Finn woke up crying about 40 minutes into his nap. A. decided to work her mommy magic and sprinted up to his room (well, as much as a pregnant lady can actually sprint) to try and get him back to sleep. 15 minutes later she was back and Finn was making sleepy noises over the monitor. Given the ominous start to my naptime football break, I reassessed and decided that 2 hours would get me through at least the first half of a game. Not bad...but 20 minutes later, naptime was interrupted again by more crying. Clearly A. didn't have the touch today, so I rushed up the 3 flights of stairs to Finn's room.
As I opened his door, I saw Finn sitting cross legged on his pillow holding his right index finger in the air, his pacifier lying next to him on the bed. "Booger", he said, waving his finger at me, "booger." OK. While not the most glamorous job, wiping boogers is certainly something that I have extensive experience in. I went over to his changing table and grabbed a diaper wipe to aide my booger-ectomy. As I reached for his finger, I realized that this was a strange looking booger. First, it was bigger than usual. Second, instead of the usual booger hues, this was much darker. Third... At this point, time slowed as my mind began furiously putting together all of the clues. It was just like the end of "The Usual Suspects" as Kevin Spacey limps, then walks away from the police station. Except instead of realizing that Verbal Kint is Keyser Soze, I became fully aware that the booger was in fact not a booger at all. It was poop. Lots of poop. And it wasn't just contained on a little boys finger. No. There was a sizeable glob on his pacifier, smears on his shirt, and little dabs on his blanket. Aaaaaarrgggh!!!
My calls for immediate back-up were answered by A., and a thorough poop cleaning ensued. All things considered, it could have been worse. No walls were smeared and his face and hair were poop-free. Plus, I now have an answer for the philosophical riddle of "when is a booger not a booger."
Finn woke up crying about 40 minutes into his nap. A. decided to work her mommy magic and sprinted up to his room (well, as much as a pregnant lady can actually sprint) to try and get him back to sleep. 15 minutes later she was back and Finn was making sleepy noises over the monitor. Given the ominous start to my naptime football break, I reassessed and decided that 2 hours would get me through at least the first half of a game. Not bad...but 20 minutes later, naptime was interrupted again by more crying. Clearly A. didn't have the touch today, so I rushed up the 3 flights of stairs to Finn's room.
As I opened his door, I saw Finn sitting cross legged on his pillow holding his right index finger in the air, his pacifier lying next to him on the bed. "Booger", he said, waving his finger at me, "booger." OK. While not the most glamorous job, wiping boogers is certainly something that I have extensive experience in. I went over to his changing table and grabbed a diaper wipe to aide my booger-ectomy. As I reached for his finger, I realized that this was a strange looking booger. First, it was bigger than usual. Second, instead of the usual booger hues, this was much darker. Third... At this point, time slowed as my mind began furiously putting together all of the clues. It was just like the end of "The Usual Suspects" as Kevin Spacey limps, then walks away from the police station. Except instead of realizing that Verbal Kint is Keyser Soze, I became fully aware that the booger was in fact not a booger at all. It was poop. Lots of poop. And it wasn't just contained on a little boys finger. No. There was a sizeable glob on his pacifier, smears on his shirt, and little dabs on his blanket. Aaaaaarrgggh!!!
My calls for immediate back-up were answered by A., and a thorough poop cleaning ensued. All things considered, it could have been worse. No walls were smeared and his face and hair were poop-free. Plus, I now have an answer for the philosophical riddle of "when is a booger not a booger."
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