WARNING: This post is not for the faint of heart...or anyone who is embarrassed or gets queasy at the mention of poop. I counted and the word "poop" is used at least 20 times in this post. This is only for seasoned parents, those who have fought the long, hard battle of potty training.
Potty training may be my least favorite task of parenting. You're supposed to be all supportive and happy if they try to even just sit on the potty. You're supposed to clap and smile even if they pee all over the floor in front of the potty. You're supposed to grin and supportively say, "maybe next time buddy!" when they have pooped in their big boy/girl pants for the umpteenth time. But all you really want to do is shake them and say, "I know you know when you have to poop. You hide behind the chair and tell me to 'stop' when I come near you because you know you are pooping your pants. Instead of pooping in your pants and crying when I have to clean it off of you, just put the poopy in the freaking potty!!!"
Not all of potty training is terrible and difficult. Our kids have done fairly well with the potty part and we have been lucky that they have both been able to get through the night dry as soon as they started going potty. But the pooping part has been a battle that we have been fighting and it just stinks...literally.
We have tried everything to get the poopy in the potty. I had our child sit on the toilet while reading books. No poop. I made up a song, "Go poopy in the potty! That makes Mommy so happy! Go poopy in the potty! You'll get an M&M-y!" As you can imagine, that wasn't super motivating. I've bribed with candy and toys. No poop. I've tried hard not to get mad but it is so unbelievably frustrating!
We've tried sitting our child on the toilet at certain times, putting the potty chair in the favorite pooping spot (behind Daddy's recliner), and just plain leaving undies off so our child will go on the toilet. All that resulted in was yelling and screaming because our child didn't want to be on the toilet and poop piles left on the floor. My favorite was a time when I was getting the kids out of the tub. The first one out came running back in asking for a diaper. That should have clued me in that he had to go poop. I told him just to wait a second but he obviously couldn't. When I went into the living room he's standing by the toy box with a terrified look on his face while he's pooping on the floor. GRRR! And the poop piles have not even been our worst experience...read "Clean Up in Aisle 1" if you want to hear a real whopper of a poop story.
Finally, we have had success in the last couple of weeks. Knock on wood, we haven't had a poop accident lately. What has been the answer you ask? We sit the potty chair in the middle of the living room floor so our child can watch TV while he goes.
I know some of you are probably judging what kind of parent I am right now. Go ahead. I am at the point where I don't care what we have to do, I just don't want any more poopy pants. Some day our child will figure out that maybe it's not quite appropriate to poop in the potty in the living room and he'll decide to actually use the one in the bathroom. Someday, right?
So here's to pooping in the potty even though it is sitting in the middle of the living room floor in front of the TV! It's been a long road with lots of ups and downs but we are proud of you!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Happy Birthday Bucko!
By the title of this post one would think I'm talking to my 3-year-old son but "Bucko" is actually my little brother. A nickname that was so cute when he was little turned into a nickname I used to taunt him with in middle school. It has somehow morphed into Uncle Buck now that he has 4 nieces and a nephew. I'm sure he'll love me sharing. Just getting him back for some information he shared about me last night.It's my brother's birthday soon. He is turning 30 in a couple of days so my older sister and I headed down to meet him and some of his friends for supper and drinks. After a couple of drinks, everyone started getting a little nostalgic and that's when the stories started.
I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time. My cheeks hurt by the end of the night. Stories of our escapades as kids and then as high school and college students had us all in tears laughing so hard. My brother shared stories of some of my stupid antics as an undergrad that I forbade him to ever share again, especially in front of my kids. Not that any of us did anything terrible or incredibly stupid but we did have some fun. It was so nice to remember all of the great times we had together.
Of course we see each other often for birthdays, holidays, and other random family get togethers but I can't remember the last time my sister, brother and I got together without our parents and spouses. Not that we don't love them, it's just different when it's just the three of us. For all the moments I spent hating them growing up, I sure do love them and hold tight to all of those memories we have together.
And as we have grown, gotten careers, dated, married and have had children, those opportunities to get together have unfortunately become fewer and further between. It makes me a little sad to know those times in our lives are just memories now but I look forward to seeing the bond my three kids will have and the mischief they will get into. I'm just glad we were able to have those few hours together to remember all of the mischief we got into.
So happy birthday Bucko! Cheers to 30. Let's not wait another 10 years before we get to hang out and reminisce on our youthful days.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Just Go To BED!!!
I hate bedtime. I hate it! At our house it is the epitome of chaos. Whiny kids, short tempered adults, yelling, giggling, bed jumping...AHHHH! I just want everyone to go to bed!
Our bedtime routine is at least an hour long process. It starts with bath time right after supper. This may be my all time least favorite parenting chore. The kids complain because they don't want to take baths. They are fully capable of tearing off their clothing (most of the time I am telling them to get their clothes back on) but I am the one wrestling them out of pants, shirts, and socks and into the tub.
Once in the tub, the kids are squealing, singing "Five Little Ducks" at the top of their lungs and pretty much making it impossible for me to wash them. The acoustic onslaught of the splashing and yelling grinds me in a way nothing else does. Then there is the whining. "It's too hot. Now it's too cold!" Grrrr! Of course I get bubbles in their eyes because it is physically impossible for them to sit still for five minutes while I wash their hair so there usually are tears shed. To top it off, they whine about having to get out. Are you kidding me? I had to force you in there to begin with!
So by the end of bath time I am ready for them to just go to sleep but that would make my life way too easy. They still have to get jammies on, hair dried, and teeth brushed, all of which can produce tears and irritable comments from me...hurry up, come here, how many times have I told you to put your pants on!!!
The cleansing and dressing are only the beginning. We then have to search the house high and low for all beloved objects that are needed for going to sleep. "Where's my dankie?" "Mom, can you find my bitty?" "I need my baby." And my all time favorite, "I want my little, green monster truck!" I am not kidding. Will likes to hold on to it sometimes while he sleeps. Real nice and cuddly.
Lovies found and time to march upstairs. Each kid picks a book and gets a song. Will typically picks one of the 20 Elmo books we have that have been read a billion times and then wants me to sing the ABC song. So every night, I sing the ABCs, trying to make it into some sort of sweet lullaby while keeping it interesting by doing a mash up with Twinkle Twinkle. I have to keep my sanity somehow.
Livi's choice of book is always unpredictable. One night we read a science book about stars she had checked out from the school library. Pretty sure that put her to sleep within five minutes. If she doesn't fall asleep during story time, there are the endless demands. "Scratch my back." "Sing me a song." "Get me a drink." And she has the oddest song choices. Sometimes they are the standards like You Are My Sunshine, sometimes she prefers ones I have sung to her since she was a baby like Godspeed by the Dixie Chicks and I'll Sing a Luv-a-Bye To You from Winnie the Pooh. Other times she goes through months of requesting Christmas songs (White Christmas and The Christmas Song being her favorite) in the middle of the summer.
Most of the time I fall asleep before the kids do. Many evenings I have awoken up crammed in Will's toddler bed with him. Grumbling because I fell asleep and my body is sore from being scrunched up in a tiny bed for who knows how long, I look at my sleeping kids and am reminded that we are one night closer to them growing up. And when they are grown up they won't want me to tuck them in anymore. So, I crawl back in for a few more snuggles with each of them while they are sleeping.
I really don't like our bedtime routine but I do love those last moments of the day when we actually have special time together snuggled in bed talking about their favorite moments of the day. I really do cherish those giggles, stories and snuggles and know that these will be fewer and further between as they grown up. As I lay with Will I tell him, "I love you" and without fail he sleepily replies, "I wuv you mama. You da best mommy in da world." And I whisper back, "You're the best Bubba in the world." And that makes the craziness totally worth it!
Our bedtime routine is at least an hour long process. It starts with bath time right after supper. This may be my all time least favorite parenting chore. The kids complain because they don't want to take baths. They are fully capable of tearing off their clothing (most of the time I am telling them to get their clothes back on) but I am the one wrestling them out of pants, shirts, and socks and into the tub.
Once in the tub, the kids are squealing, singing "Five Little Ducks" at the top of their lungs and pretty much making it impossible for me to wash them. The acoustic onslaught of the splashing and yelling grinds me in a way nothing else does. Then there is the whining. "It's too hot. Now it's too cold!" Grrrr! Of course I get bubbles in their eyes because it is physically impossible for them to sit still for five minutes while I wash their hair so there usually are tears shed. To top it off, they whine about having to get out. Are you kidding me? I had to force you in there to begin with!
So by the end of bath time I am ready for them to just go to sleep but that would make my life way too easy. They still have to get jammies on, hair dried, and teeth brushed, all of which can produce tears and irritable comments from me...hurry up, come here, how many times have I told you to put your pants on!!!
The cleansing and dressing are only the beginning. We then have to search the house high and low for all beloved objects that are needed for going to sleep. "Where's my dankie?" "Mom, can you find my bitty?" "I need my baby." And my all time favorite, "I want my little, green monster truck!" I am not kidding. Will likes to hold on to it sometimes while he sleeps. Real nice and cuddly.
Lovies found and time to march upstairs. Each kid picks a book and gets a song. Will typically picks one of the 20 Elmo books we have that have been read a billion times and then wants me to sing the ABC song. So every night, I sing the ABCs, trying to make it into some sort of sweet lullaby while keeping it interesting by doing a mash up with Twinkle Twinkle. I have to keep my sanity somehow.
Livi's choice of book is always unpredictable. One night we read a science book about stars she had checked out from the school library. Pretty sure that put her to sleep within five minutes. If she doesn't fall asleep during story time, there are the endless demands. "Scratch my back." "Sing me a song." "Get me a drink." And she has the oddest song choices. Sometimes they are the standards like You Are My Sunshine, sometimes she prefers ones I have sung to her since she was a baby like Godspeed by the Dixie Chicks and I'll Sing a Luv-a-Bye To You from Winnie the Pooh. Other times she goes through months of requesting Christmas songs (White Christmas and The Christmas Song being her favorite) in the middle of the summer.
Most of the time I fall asleep before the kids do. Many evenings I have awoken up crammed in Will's toddler bed with him. Grumbling because I fell asleep and my body is sore from being scrunched up in a tiny bed for who knows how long, I look at my sleeping kids and am reminded that we are one night closer to them growing up. And when they are grown up they won't want me to tuck them in anymore. So, I crawl back in for a few more snuggles with each of them while they are sleeping.
I really don't like our bedtime routine but I do love those last moments of the day when we actually have special time together snuggled in bed talking about their favorite moments of the day. I really do cherish those giggles, stories and snuggles and know that these will be fewer and further between as they grown up. As I lay with Will I tell him, "I love you" and without fail he sleepily replies, "I wuv you mama. You da best mommy in da world." And I whisper back, "You're the best Bubba in the world." And that makes the craziness totally worth it!
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
'Tis the Season to Be STRESSED
I love Christmas. I always have. I love the magic of believing in something. I love the snow. I love celebrating traditions. I love spending time with my family. But as I have become an adult, gotten married, and had children, I also have come to realize how much stress and work goes along with the holidays.
Christmas as an adult definitely is a lot more stressful than I had ever anticipated. I still love all of the traditions and the magic of the holiday season but I couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed this year. There's a lot of pressure to make sure your kids have the "perfect" Christmas experience. There's the baking, the gift purchasing and wrapping. The trip to see Santa Claus and preparations for family and friend get togethers. Christmas cards to get out (which will be late because I put them in the mail on the 23rd), groceries to buy and food to make for the big day. And in the midst of this, trying to teach my 3 and 5-year-olds what the true meaning of Christmas is. No pressure!
I was reading one of my favorite Christmas stories to Livi the other night. It's called "Mooseltoe" and it's about a dad who tries to create the perfect Christmas for his family but forgets to get a Christmas tree. In the end, he finds a solution that's not "perfect" but is pretty close. As I finished reading it, I thought about how much pressure we put on ourselves during the holiday season. Traditions and activities that are supposed to be fun and be part of that "perfect" Christmas turn into disasters because I'm overstressed and short on patience. I'm pretty sure when I was baking sugar cookies with my kids a couple of weeks ago I was yelling at them after about 10 minutes of their "help." It made me so angry at myself that I projected my stress onto them.
So, with all the stress leading up to the holidays, I was expecting Christmas to be stressful as well. I'm not going to lie. I was getting a little short with my kids while I was trying to bathe and dress them and myself for church but the conversation on the way into church dissipated the stress I was feeling and changed the whole mood of the season. We were discussing how we were celebrating Jesus' birthday and a heated debate between Livi and Will ensued about whether Jesus was a boy or girl...Will thinks he's a girl which most likely has something to do with the fact that the statue of Jesus at church has long hair and is wearing a "dress." I couldn't help but laugh at the kids' conversation and how seriously they were arguing their sides, and then at myself for getting so caught up in all this holiday frenzy. I decided it was time for me to chill out and just enjoy this time with my family.
And I really did, after mass we came home for pizza (a Primrose tradition), opened a present, and then enjoyed an evening playing games, reading stories and preparing for Santa's arrival. Livi left a bag of toys by the door they had collected from their room for Santa to take to other boys and girls. She was very giving while Will needed a little persuasion. He kept trying to give away Livi's toys and stuffed his footie pajamas clear full of toys he was afraid would get taken away from him. Maybe next year...
At bedtime the kids convinced me to let them lay in our bed. I laid between them and it was hard not getting caught up in their excitement as they talked and giggled about their anticipation for the next day. Livi fell asleep and as Will calmed down he grabbed my face and said, "You're the best mommy in the world!" Ok, so he's not extremely giving but he is incredibly sweet.
Of course the excitement was contagious again today as the kids woke up and raced downstairs. Will's face was absolutely priceless as he spied the workbench he requested. Livi got her pogo stick and loved it even though she wasn't able to use it yet. They loved their gifts and we enjoyed spending time with them playing games and with their toys all day long. Even Lexi seemed to be enjoying the day and let us hear some of her giggles for the first time.
So, I may have failed to make Christmas "perfect". My Christmas cards are late, my house was not perfectly clean, and I'm pretty sure we were in our pajamas all day long but I got to spend Christmas at home with my three kids and husband (plus parents and brother) just hanging out and playing with toys all day. I truly enjoyed my children and that is what made my Christmas perfect.
As I look back on the past month, I feel relieved that we are over the craziness of the holiday season and that I can relax and enjoy my kids again. As look back at the past two days, I wish time would stand still and we could experience this feeling every day of the year...the excitement and the enthusiasm of the season. I need to write a memo to myself around the middle of November 2013...Don't stress. Enjoy your kids and the magic of the season. Be thankful for all God has given you. Maybe that note will help me take it day by day and remember I don't need all of that craziness to make my Christmas perfect enough.
Christmas as an adult definitely is a lot more stressful than I had ever anticipated. I still love all of the traditions and the magic of the holiday season but I couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed this year. There's a lot of pressure to make sure your kids have the "perfect" Christmas experience. There's the baking, the gift purchasing and wrapping. The trip to see Santa Claus and preparations for family and friend get togethers. Christmas cards to get out (which will be late because I put them in the mail on the 23rd), groceries to buy and food to make for the big day. And in the midst of this, trying to teach my 3 and 5-year-olds what the true meaning of Christmas is. No pressure!
I was reading one of my favorite Christmas stories to Livi the other night. It's called "Mooseltoe" and it's about a dad who tries to create the perfect Christmas for his family but forgets to get a Christmas tree. In the end, he finds a solution that's not "perfect" but is pretty close. As I finished reading it, I thought about how much pressure we put on ourselves during the holiday season. Traditions and activities that are supposed to be fun and be part of that "perfect" Christmas turn into disasters because I'm overstressed and short on patience. I'm pretty sure when I was baking sugar cookies with my kids a couple of weeks ago I was yelling at them after about 10 minutes of their "help." It made me so angry at myself that I projected my stress onto them. So, with all the stress leading up to the holidays, I was expecting Christmas to be stressful as well. I'm not going to lie. I was getting a little short with my kids while I was trying to bathe and dress them and myself for church but the conversation on the way into church dissipated the stress I was feeling and changed the whole mood of the season. We were discussing how we were celebrating Jesus' birthday and a heated debate between Livi and Will ensued about whether Jesus was a boy or girl...Will thinks he's a girl which most likely has something to do with the fact that the statue of Jesus at church has long hair and is wearing a "dress." I couldn't help but laugh at the kids' conversation and how seriously they were arguing their sides, and then at myself for getting so caught up in all this holiday frenzy. I decided it was time for me to chill out and just enjoy this time with my family.
And I really did, after mass we came home for pizza (a Primrose tradition), opened a present, and then enjoyed an evening playing games, reading stories and preparing for Santa's arrival. Livi left a bag of toys by the door they had collected from their room for Santa to take to other boys and girls. She was very giving while Will needed a little persuasion. He kept trying to give away Livi's toys and stuffed his footie pajamas clear full of toys he was afraid would get taken away from him. Maybe next year...At bedtime the kids convinced me to let them lay in our bed. I laid between them and it was hard not getting caught up in their excitement as they talked and giggled about their anticipation for the next day. Livi fell asleep and as Will calmed down he grabbed my face and said, "You're the best mommy in the world!" Ok, so he's not extremely giving but he is incredibly sweet.
Of course the excitement was contagious again today as the kids woke up and raced downstairs. Will's face was absolutely priceless as he spied the workbench he requested. Livi got her pogo stick and loved it even though she wasn't able to use it yet. They loved their gifts and we enjoyed spending time with them playing games and with their toys all day long. Even Lexi seemed to be enjoying the day and let us hear some of her giggles for the first time.
So, I may have failed to make Christmas "perfect". My Christmas cards are late, my house was not perfectly clean, and I'm pretty sure we were in our pajamas all day long but I got to spend Christmas at home with my three kids and husband (plus parents and brother) just hanging out and playing with toys all day. I truly enjoyed my children and that is what made my Christmas perfect.
As I look back on the past month, I feel relieved that we are over the craziness of the holiday season and that I can relax and enjoy my kids again. As look back at the past two days, I wish time would stand still and we could experience this feeling every day of the year...the excitement and the enthusiasm of the season. I need to write a memo to myself around the middle of November 2013...Don't stress. Enjoy your kids and the magic of the season. Be thankful for all God has given you. Maybe that note will help me take it day by day and remember I don't need all of that craziness to make my Christmas perfect enough.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Wherefore art thou belly button?
I'm 3 months post baby and my belly button is still unrecognizable. Of course I can now see it which is a good thing but I keep wondering if it will ever return to that perfect little innie that Dr. Weideman created 32 years ago.
When you get pregnant you expect your body to change but you are silly enough to expect to look like the maternity models with a cute little basketball bump and no weight gain in other part of your body. Newsflash: I'm pretty sure none of those maternity models are really pregnant :) The harsh reality is your face swells, your butt gets big, and your fingers and/or toes may turn into fat little sausages.
And for some reason, you are naieve enough to think that as soon as the baby comes out your stomach it will miraculously shrink back to your pre-pregnancy tummy. The baby came out so there should be nothing left, right? The reality is you'll still look 4 months pregnant after the baby is born and have this jiggly pouch with a crater (formerly known as your belly button) in the middle of it.
As I said, I'm 3 months out and slowly my crater has again turned into an innie of some sort. But it's stretched out into a mishapen circle with wrinkly, raisin like skin around it. The dark line that showed up lengthwise down the middle of my stomach in the last month of pregnancy is still there, too, and I'm trying to remember how long it took to fade back to normal colored skin after I had my son. I think it was close to 6 months. I know, it's a pleasant image but us moms know this is the reality of a post baby body.
I wish the belly button was the worst part of it. I don't think my hips will ever be the same. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with one 7 1/2 and two 8 1/2 pound babies being pushed through the birth canal. I have to admit I did enjoy my pregnant breast swellage at times and my nursing breasts can look great when they are full of milk but they are sore most of the time and leak a little every now and then...sexy, eh? The worst part is when you are done nursing and they hang there like deflated balloons. I have the same cup size as before, I just have to roll them up to sit in the bra cups.
I know my body has changed and I'm happy to have three beautiful children to show for it. It's just frustrating trying to get back into shape especially when you are just trying to survive most days. I'm hoping that with enough diet, exercise, push-up bras, and Spanx I can look almost as good as I did before having my kids!
When you get pregnant you expect your body to change but you are silly enough to expect to look like the maternity models with a cute little basketball bump and no weight gain in other part of your body. Newsflash: I'm pretty sure none of those maternity models are really pregnant :) The harsh reality is your face swells, your butt gets big, and your fingers and/or toes may turn into fat little sausages.
And for some reason, you are naieve enough to think that as soon as the baby comes out your stomach it will miraculously shrink back to your pre-pregnancy tummy. The baby came out so there should be nothing left, right? The reality is you'll still look 4 months pregnant after the baby is born and have this jiggly pouch with a crater (formerly known as your belly button) in the middle of it.
As I said, I'm 3 months out and slowly my crater has again turned into an innie of some sort. But it's stretched out into a mishapen circle with wrinkly, raisin like skin around it. The dark line that showed up lengthwise down the middle of my stomach in the last month of pregnancy is still there, too, and I'm trying to remember how long it took to fade back to normal colored skin after I had my son. I think it was close to 6 months. I know, it's a pleasant image but us moms know this is the reality of a post baby body.
I wish the belly button was the worst part of it. I don't think my hips will ever be the same. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with one 7 1/2 and two 8 1/2 pound babies being pushed through the birth canal. I have to admit I did enjoy my pregnant breast swellage at times and my nursing breasts can look great when they are full of milk but they are sore most of the time and leak a little every now and then...sexy, eh? The worst part is when you are done nursing and they hang there like deflated balloons. I have the same cup size as before, I just have to roll them up to sit in the bra cups.
I know my body has changed and I'm happy to have three beautiful children to show for it. It's just frustrating trying to get back into shape especially when you are just trying to survive most days. I'm hoping that with enough diet, exercise, push-up bras, and Spanx I can look almost as good as I did before having my kids!
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Goodbye Baby
I've been dreading this day since before Lexi was born. It is "First Day Back to Work" eve and I'm having a hard time facing the fact that I'm actually going to have to set my alarm tonight so that I can wake up to pure craziness as I try to get myself and three kids ready for work/school/daycare.
Lexi apparently has some sort of sixth sense that her world is going to be rocked tomorrow because as I'm scampering around the house laying out clothes, packing bags, etc., she is screaming bloody murder for half an hour while my husband tries to comfort her. After getting thing in order I take her from my husband and she immediately stops crying and nuzzles into my neck. Those sweet snuggles are what I'm going to miss most tomorrow. After feeding her, giving her a bath, and dressing her for bed I hand her over to Brad again and the screaming ensues. I get her back and she's asleep in about 5 minutes. I have to say that I did get some sick satisfaction that tonight she chose me over him.
So everyone is tucked in and ready for a new day but I sit here feeling a little sad and overwhelmed of what's to come. Of course I felt a little of this when I returned to work after the other two but it seems a little worse this time. I've been contemplating this over the past few weeks and the only reason I can come up with is we have decided this will be it. Our final child. And although I knew this going into my pregnancy I have to admit I feel like I am mourning every little thing as Lexi grows.
The first thing was Lexi's birth. I was extremely ready to have her. I had been having terrible back pain for the last month and was ready to meet our new baby. But at the moment I delivered her a complete and utter sadness overcame me (no, I don't think it was postpartum). I felt so empty. It was a feeling I don't remember feeling with the other two because of the excitement of finding out whether we just had a boy or girl and of meeting our new baby. But this time was different. I literally felt empty as I pushed her out. I felt like I had been hollowed out and that a part of me was missing. I also felt a bit of a panic as the realization came over me that their would never be someone growing and moving around inside of me again and I will truly miss that.
Of course I was filled with joy at meeting our brand new baby girl but as we left the hospital I felt a bit nostalgic as I remembered all of the wonderful doctors, nurses and staff who had made each stay so enjoyable. People that I will never see again. When I returned home and faced the tubs of boy clothes that would never be worn by a child of mine I had a hard time letting go. The memories of Will in certain outfits made me a little sad as I realized what a big boy he was. And, yes, even when Lexi began sleeping through the night I felt a sadness that I would never again have those middle of the night moments feeding and snuggling my baby while the rest of the family slept.
And now, as I return to work, the reality of how quickly time goes by is most poignant. I love my job and love the staff and kids I work with but the reality is the time I spend at work is time that I am not with my own children. It is hard to say goodbye to them each day and know that they will make new discoveries and learn how to do new things without me being there. They will continue to grow and I won't always be there to see them do it. I will miss them and as they grow I will miss these baby days.
Lexi apparently has some sort of sixth sense that her world is going to be rocked tomorrow because as I'm scampering around the house laying out clothes, packing bags, etc., she is screaming bloody murder for half an hour while my husband tries to comfort her. After getting thing in order I take her from my husband and she immediately stops crying and nuzzles into my neck. Those sweet snuggles are what I'm going to miss most tomorrow. After feeding her, giving her a bath, and dressing her for bed I hand her over to Brad again and the screaming ensues. I get her back and she's asleep in about 5 minutes. I have to say that I did get some sick satisfaction that tonight she chose me over him.
So everyone is tucked in and ready for a new day but I sit here feeling a little sad and overwhelmed of what's to come. Of course I felt a little of this when I returned to work after the other two but it seems a little worse this time. I've been contemplating this over the past few weeks and the only reason I can come up with is we have decided this will be it. Our final child. And although I knew this going into my pregnancy I have to admit I feel like I am mourning every little thing as Lexi grows.
The first thing was Lexi's birth. I was extremely ready to have her. I had been having terrible back pain for the last month and was ready to meet our new baby. But at the moment I delivered her a complete and utter sadness overcame me (no, I don't think it was postpartum). I felt so empty. It was a feeling I don't remember feeling with the other two because of the excitement of finding out whether we just had a boy or girl and of meeting our new baby. But this time was different. I literally felt empty as I pushed her out. I felt like I had been hollowed out and that a part of me was missing. I also felt a bit of a panic as the realization came over me that their would never be someone growing and moving around inside of me again and I will truly miss that.
Of course I was filled with joy at meeting our brand new baby girl but as we left the hospital I felt a bit nostalgic as I remembered all of the wonderful doctors, nurses and staff who had made each stay so enjoyable. People that I will never see again. When I returned home and faced the tubs of boy clothes that would never be worn by a child of mine I had a hard time letting go. The memories of Will in certain outfits made me a little sad as I realized what a big boy he was. And, yes, even when Lexi began sleeping through the night I felt a sadness that I would never again have those middle of the night moments feeding and snuggling my baby while the rest of the family slept.And now, as I return to work, the reality of how quickly time goes by is most poignant. I love my job and love the staff and kids I work with but the reality is the time I spend at work is time that I am not with my own children. It is hard to say goodbye to them each day and know that they will make new discoveries and learn how to do new things without me being there. They will continue to grow and I won't always be there to see them do it. I will miss them and as they grow I will miss these baby days.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Clean Up in Aisle 1
I should have been prepared...I know better. I'm a veteran mother with a 5-year-old daughter, 3-year-old son, and newborn at home. But, it seems, the older my children get and as our family grows I become less and less prepared.
Case in point, a recent trip I took to Target with my son and newborn daughter. My son had thrown up in the middle of the night but had seemed fine that morning so we went shopping for some odds and ends we needed at home. He had been doing such a great job potty training lately that he had been wearing undies when we were out and about for the past couple of months.
While meandering through the store my son requested to ride in the basket of the cart which should have been my first clue as to what was going to happen. As we are strolling through the toddler section looking for a sweater that he might be able to wear for Christmas, a woman approaches me and says, "Something's leaking from your cart." I look over and see what looks like chocolate malt splattering on the floor under my cart. I'm thinking, "That's funny. All I have in my cart is batteries and my son."
Horror grips me as I move to my son and realize that it is in fact not a chocolate malt but his bowels that have created the puddle on the floor. I freeze and am in panic as I look at him and the mess he has made. The woman says with a smile, "Good luck with that." I do think she was sincere and I did appreciate her bringing the mess to my attention but I wanted to smack her for not offering to find someone to help me clean it up.
So there I stand, in an embarrassed stupor trying to decide what to do. I don't want to leave this puddle of poop in the middle of the floor while I try to find someone to clean it up. I didn't want to drive my cart through the mess and I certainly wasn't going to leave my toddler and newborn in the cart all by themselves. Luckily an employee was nearby that I could holler to for help.
"Um, I'm sorry but my son had an accident." She came over expecting maybe a dropped container of food or maybe wet pants but I could see a little shock cross her face as she eyed the brown puddle on the floor. "Why don't you go get your son cleaned up?"
Thank you! At least I only had to face one person with my complete and utter embarrassment. I hurried my son into the bathroom to try to clean him up. The whole time he's saying things such as, "I pooped. I made a mess. I got poopy on the toilet. Why you throwing my undies away?" as he's touching the femine waste can, toilet seat, and every other disgusting surface in the stall. "Don't touch that. Stand still. Let me clean your butt," were all loud whispers coming out of my mouth. I'm sure anyone else who was in the bathroom got quite an earful.
Luckily the poop came straight up his back and very little got on his pants but I had no pull-up or extra undies in the bag for him. So I pulled out one of my newborn's diapers and cranked that thing around him. Of course it only covered the necessary parts and was about to pop off his butt but it was going to have to do until we got home.
What happened to that first time mother who had a diaper bag stuffed full of a billion diapers, two extra outfits and enough wet wipes to sanitize a whole public restroom? Well, five years later you have a veteran mother who crams as little as possible into a purse so she can free up her hands to comfort a newborn, drag a screaming toddler out of the store if needed while pushing a cart full of groceries. As my children and family have grown, I seem to have lost a little of my type A, super prepared self...which probably isn't so bad until I get caught by a poop spot in the middle of Target.
So lessons, from the day: 1) When your child asks to sit down when they usually can't sit still, ask them if they need to go to the bathroom. 2) Even though your child seems to be potty trained, always bring back up undies (duh!). 3) When your child throws up the night before, chances are he may still have a tummy ache the next day and in the least, put a pull-up on him, and you might want to stay home and sit him on a rubber pad all day. 4) And of course, be nice to employees anywhere you take your child...you never know what they've had to clean up that day :)
Case in point, a recent trip I took to Target with my son and newborn daughter. My son had thrown up in the middle of the night but had seemed fine that morning so we went shopping for some odds and ends we needed at home. He had been doing such a great job potty training lately that he had been wearing undies when we were out and about for the past couple of months.
While meandering through the store my son requested to ride in the basket of the cart which should have been my first clue as to what was going to happen. As we are strolling through the toddler section looking for a sweater that he might be able to wear for Christmas, a woman approaches me and says, "Something's leaking from your cart." I look over and see what looks like chocolate malt splattering on the floor under my cart. I'm thinking, "That's funny. All I have in my cart is batteries and my son."
Horror grips me as I move to my son and realize that it is in fact not a chocolate malt but his bowels that have created the puddle on the floor. I freeze and am in panic as I look at him and the mess he has made. The woman says with a smile, "Good luck with that." I do think she was sincere and I did appreciate her bringing the mess to my attention but I wanted to smack her for not offering to find someone to help me clean it up.
So there I stand, in an embarrassed stupor trying to decide what to do. I don't want to leave this puddle of poop in the middle of the floor while I try to find someone to clean it up. I didn't want to drive my cart through the mess and I certainly wasn't going to leave my toddler and newborn in the cart all by themselves. Luckily an employee was nearby that I could holler to for help.
"Um, I'm sorry but my son had an accident." She came over expecting maybe a dropped container of food or maybe wet pants but I could see a little shock cross her face as she eyed the brown puddle on the floor. "Why don't you go get your son cleaned up?"
Thank you! At least I only had to face one person with my complete and utter embarrassment. I hurried my son into the bathroom to try to clean him up. The whole time he's saying things such as, "I pooped. I made a mess. I got poopy on the toilet. Why you throwing my undies away?" as he's touching the femine waste can, toilet seat, and every other disgusting surface in the stall. "Don't touch that. Stand still. Let me clean your butt," were all loud whispers coming out of my mouth. I'm sure anyone else who was in the bathroom got quite an earful.
Luckily the poop came straight up his back and very little got on his pants but I had no pull-up or extra undies in the bag for him. So I pulled out one of my newborn's diapers and cranked that thing around him. Of course it only covered the necessary parts and was about to pop off his butt but it was going to have to do until we got home.
What happened to that first time mother who had a diaper bag stuffed full of a billion diapers, two extra outfits and enough wet wipes to sanitize a whole public restroom? Well, five years later you have a veteran mother who crams as little as possible into a purse so she can free up her hands to comfort a newborn, drag a screaming toddler out of the store if needed while pushing a cart full of groceries. As my children and family have grown, I seem to have lost a little of my type A, super prepared self...which probably isn't so bad until I get caught by a poop spot in the middle of Target.
So lessons, from the day: 1) When your child asks to sit down when they usually can't sit still, ask them if they need to go to the bathroom. 2) Even though your child seems to be potty trained, always bring back up undies (duh!). 3) When your child throws up the night before, chances are he may still have a tummy ache the next day and in the least, put a pull-up on him, and you might want to stay home and sit him on a rubber pad all day. 4) And of course, be nice to employees anywhere you take your child...you never know what they've had to clean up that day :)
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