life with a new baby
Archive for November, 2009
Master of Mega Poops
Nov 18th
At one point, I thought I had already experienced the King of All Poops… but I had no idea what the future had in store for me.
Last night, that future was revealed. I did not like what I saw.
Nathan woke up, so as usual, Paul got him up and took him in his room to change his diaper. Then he turned on the light.
That’s never a good sign.
“Honey?” he called. I popped my head up from bed and looked at him through the hallway. “Will you come here? I need your help,” he said. He was holding Nathan, clad only in his diaper, at arms length. I plodded into the room.
“Here, just hold him,” Paul said. “I need to wipe him down. He pooped all over himself.”
I held Nathan while Paul wiped him down and while I was holding him, I looked on the changing table and saw the soiled sleeper Nathan had been wearing.
It was completely saturated in a mixture of pee and poop.
Both of the sleeper’s legs, the feet, the entire bottom, and half-way up the back were were this disgusting brownish-yellow color.
“What the…?” I said as I peered down at the mess, horrified.
Apparently, Nathan had pooped at some point in the night without waking up. Then he peed on top of it. The pee had soaked into the poop, causing it to turn into this noxious, liquid mess that oozed out of both sides of the diaper, drenching himself and his sleeper in a vile concoction of waste. Horrified, I handed Nathan back to my husband and gingerly picked up the contaminated sleeper with my thumb and index fingers of my left hand.
I still had no idea what was in store for me.
I took the sleeper into the kitchen, set it in the sink, and started hosing it down with hot water. I watched as the water draining off the sleeper turned brown. Then browner.
Then these CHUNKS OF POOP started gushing out.
I started to sweat. I didn’t want to know why chunks of poop were now decorating the bottom of the sink. I gingerly snapped open of the legs.
Idon’twannaknow Idon’twannaknow…
“HOLY SHIT! PAUL! PAUL! THERE ARE MEGA-TONS OF POOP STUCK IN THE LEG OF HIS SLEEPER!” I screeched as soon as I saw what was inside. And I wasn’t kidding. The entire leg was completely filled up with soggy chunks of Nathan Poop.
Stinky, sticky, noxious, stomach-turning chunks of poop.
“Oh disgusting!” I cried as I carefully turned the leg of the sleeper inside out. My stomach started to roll.
I gagged.
I doused the leg with a blast of hot water, averting my eyes towards the ceiling. I tried to steel my stomach against images of poop cascading down the drain. But blasting poop out of the leg of a sleeper is like watching a train-wreck… you try your hardest to turn your eyes, but you can’t help yourself.
You have to witness the mayhem.
I looked down.
“PAUL! PAUL! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, THERE IS POOP COMING OUT OF THE OTHER LEG, TOO!” I shrieked.
I was in a Poop Nightmare. The worst poop in all of Poop Land. A sea of unrelenting poop. Mountains of soggy chunks of poop filled up BOTH LEGS OF THE SLEEPER. How does this happen?
Where does Nathan store all this? Does it pile up inside his little body all the way up to his head? Because I’ve never, ever seen so much poop come out of someone so little. So I delicately turned the other leg inside out and blasted away the poop with more hot water.
This is my version of Hell. Being accosted by mountainous piles of poop. It was all over the sink, all over my hands. There was so much poop that it had practically developed its own entity. It was taking over my mind.
After Nathan, his swing, his clothes, the sink, and myself were all cleaned up, we went back to bed.
Visions of poop haunted my dreams.
This, my friends, was the Master of Mega Poops. It was awful. Mega Poopage Awful.
Sleep Deprivation and Soul Death
Nov 17th
Things are rough around here. All of us, meaning my husband and I, are functioning with sloth-like energy. Our souls are on the verge of soul-death. We have the energy to slowly put food in our mouths, chew it until it’s mashed up just enough to go down our throats, and swallow. And that’s about it.
We’re pretty tired.
Nathan is going through his I-Don’t-Wanna-Sleep-For-More-Than-2-Hours-At-A-Time phase.
STILL.
He’s been doing this for a number of weeks now. I don’t know if it’s a mega-long growth spurt, separation anxiety, teething, or if he’s seriously plotting different ways to cause my husband and I to teeter on the brink of insanity… but the little guy will NOT let us sleep.
We put him to bed, and he’ll stay up for a good 30-45 minutes talking to himself.
GOD HELP US ALL, he’s already taking after me.
So he’ll be in our room, feet thunking heavily on the swing, shouting about world politics or hunger in Africa or whatever the hell it is babies are talking about when they say “Nya nya rar rar MA MA! Nanananana! MA MA! nya nya rar rar rar!” for hours at a time. Then, he’ll doze off.
Finally. IT SLEEPS.
FOR TWO HOURS. Three if we’re really lucky. Then he’ll start crying, wanting to be fed or comforted or hugged or talked to… so we’ll do all of the above. I’ll breast feed him until his little belly is full of breast milk. I even try really hard to ignore when he BITES THE CRAP out of me. With his dagger teeth miniature enameled FEAR MONGERS. Top him off with a bit of formula. Put him back in bed. Kiss his sweet little head.
And he’ll appear to doze off. I think he actually stays awake, eyes closed because he must maintain appearances, plotting what he can do to really drive Mommy and Daddy up the wall.
EUREKA!
He starts talking. Loudly. Incessantly. He bangs his little fists on the sides of the swing, kicks his little feet on the seat, and creates a commotion to be reckoned with. Like he’s practicing for world-dictatorship and nothing is going to stand in his way.
He has been doing this Every. Single. Night. Without fail.
Paul and I will roll over, look at each other, and sigh in unison because that’s what parents on the brink of losing their sanity do… they SIGH IN UNISON. I still can’t bend over because of the pain of recent surgery, so Paul has to get up, check Nathan’s diaper just to be sure, and escort our Rising Dictator into his room because Paul brings home the bacon, so he really has to have at least thirty seconds of sleep a night.
Then Paul comes back to bed and crawls under the covers. I roll over, we look at each other, and we SIGH IN UNISON because that’s what sleep-deprived, guilty-feeling parents do when they have to put their little guy in his room to sleep for the night.
Nathan doesn’t seem to mind too much. Amazingly, he stops his tirade and sleeps quietly. Paul and I, on the other hand, continue to toss and turn, spontaneously waking up to look at each other and SIGH IN UNISON because that’s what sleep deprived, guilty feeling parents do when they miss feeling the presence of their little guy making thunking noises with his Monkey Feet.
I start to wonder if Nathan is just being quiet because his feelings are hurt and he thinks we don’t love him.
I try to sleep but can’t. Images of an un-loved and hurt-feeling Nathan float aimlessly around in my sleep-deprived mind. I am cloaked with guilt. I toss and turn, imagining Nathan is so overcome with such a deep sorrow that he can no longer talk. So I roll over and see Paul is thinking the same thing, so we SIGH IN UNISON and he gets up and peeks in Nathan’s room.
This continues throughout the night.
This too shall pass, right?
RIGHT?
Please, for the love of all who need sleep, tell me I am right…
Nathan and His Antenna Appendages
Nov 16th
Nathan wouldn’t stop yanking my hair, so I had to sit him down. He was unhappy about it.
So he decided to yank off his socks instead
So I mentioned the other day that Nathan’s arms and legs are like four antennas, constantly waving around and touching his surroundings. Well, I’ve noticed that within the past couple of days, his need to touch everything has multiplied tenfold.
I walk by the curtains, he reaches out and grabs them, holding them in his tightly clenched fist.
I stand by the fridge, he swipes at the magnets.
I yawn too big and he inserts HIS ENTIRE HAND in my mouth.
I turn my head and he sticks his finger in my ear.
I find it slightly irritating when he’s in my lap and, with lightening speed, he sticks his finger in my nose. It makes me sneeze, and as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t sneeze just once. Or twice. Or even three times. I sneeze MULTIPLE TIMES IN A ROW. Me, my dad, and my brother are the only ones I know who have this ability.
It’s like one sneeze isn’t good enough. No, our noses have this obtuse need to ensure that EVERY LAST BIT OF FOREIGN OBJECT is expelled permanently and irrefutably from our nasal passages.
When I laugh, Nathan takes his little hands out of his mouth, slobber dripping from his fingertips, and rubs my teeth.
When I walk through a door, he lurches to the side and grabs the wall.
When I smile at him, he reaches out and pinches my cheeks.
And GOD HELP ME if I wear my hair down. Nathan loves to wrap his wet little hands around in it and yank. And I don’t mean he grabs a large section of hair and yanks, leaving me with only a sore scalp. No, Nathan grabs only three or four strands at a time and PULLS THEM OUT, leaving me with a sore scalp and rapidly-growing bald spots.
Sometimes he’ll eat those lone strands of yanked-out hair.
I lay him down for his nap and he’ll lay on his back, waving his little antennas in the air, searching for something, anything, to grasp. Sometimes he’ll flex his fingers and toes while staring at them quizzically. Other times his appendages come into contact with an object… then they’ll roam all over said object, exploring and learning.
I don’t mind. I could seriously live without the missing patches of hair, but that’s the price you pay for having a very curious little one. I enjoy watching him learn and giving him new toys to discover.
He won’t stay this age forever.
The Allure of The Spaghetti-Noodle Quizzes
Nov 15th
| You Are a Hippie |
 You may not have long hair or a closet full of tie-dye, but you definitely dance to the beat of your own drum. (And you may even play the drum as well.)You are a true free spirit. You don’t let yourself be weighed down by rules and expectations.You are creative, philosophical, and caring. You want everyone to have a better life. For you, the worst thing in the world is being stuck in some rat race. You rather be broke than have to wear a suit every day. |
I’m really not sure why I do these quizzes, but I’m addicted to them. Even though they are completely pointless and usually completely erroneous.
What type of sandal are you? If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Well, I am not a sandal. I am also not a crayon, nor do I aspire to be a crayon, so I don’t give a damn what color I would be.
Seriously, why do people take these quizzes?
I tell you why. There is some sort of magnetic pull to the quizzes. Subliminal. Hypnotic. It’s like you read the question and you get pulled into this make-believe world of disgruntled sandals and crayons, and before you know it, you are answering all these random questions, on a quest to see what you would taste like if you were EATEN BY A CANNIBAL WITH ONE EAR WHO IS THREATENING TO STRANGLE YOU WITH OVER-COOKED SPAGHETTI NOODLES.
Then I start to wonder crazy things, like if I were a spaghetti noodle, how soggy would I be?
Who cares about quizzes questioning you about cannibals and spaghetti noodles and stinky sandals and eye-gouging crayons?
Well, apparently I care. Because I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted some 5-question quiz to tell me what kind of personality I have, and it turns out I’m a hippie. Part of the description is true… I do dance to the beat of my own drum, but no, I don’t know how to actually play the drums. I don’t have long hair, although I used to, and I don’t particularly care for tie dye.
I am very creative, philosophical, and caring. I truly do wish everyone could have a good life. But I think it’s silly to be broke than to have to wear a suit every day. I LIKE SUITS. Wearing them makes me feel business-like and professional.
Plus, it makes people believe I’m sane.
Recent Comments
Aww thanks, Tina, it was good to see you too! I wish I could have talked to you more... I ...
I'm sorry you all had a rough go yesterday, but it was good to see you both :) I have ...
Thank you, I appreciate that. It's so cool to hear people say that we look alike... I've been told there ...
Awww... what really nice photos! You two look so alike, especially with the way you smile.