Thursday, March 29, 2012

Mommy Post: It's Potty Time!!

I get that most people don't want to hear about the potty habits of my 2 year old.  But this is my blog and I think they're fascinating.  Just this same, for those of you who clicked a link but didn't read the title, this is your fair warning.  TURN BACK NOW!  Very soon, there's a good chance I'm going to talk about poop.

So, about poop....

No, that's a little too abrupt.

So some of you may know that we have been doing a terrible job of potty training our daughter, off and on, for about the past year.  At first, we started to punch it right when she turned 18 months.  I was potty trained at 18 months, I figured it would be a breeze.  That was, in fact, not so.  My daughter had this terrific fear of her potty chair, and after months, at her best, she would sit there until she knew she had to pee.  Then she would scream and cry and shake and try to escape.  Even our encouraging cheers were met with tearful response;  seems we were only reminding her of the terrible thing we'd just made her do.  Needless to say, we didn't push it much then.

So for most of that year, until about November, we would try occasionally, not push, just, "to see", and she eventually got over her potty-phobia.  But she also didn't mind peeing in her diaper, or her underwear.  Not a big fan of peeing on the floor, but you know how it is.  You gotta go, you gotta go.

Finally, we decided to push it in February.  We had 3 days of not having to leave the house, and we tossed the diapers out for that time.  During the day and night, wake time and sleeping, our daughter's bare bottom was all that we saw.  And she did... remarkably well!  She even woke up totally dry one morning, and was nearly always fine during the day and during naps.  Pooping was a different story, but that's to be expected.

Then we went out of town.  Then we got busy, and realized that for all of February and all of March, she would get to be home all day maybe 2-3 days out of the week.  Max.  My girl needs all day consistency.  My girl needs to forget that diapers exist.  There was just no way that was going to work out.  So, we put it all off with a new goal: Maternity Leave Potty Training.  Catchy, no?

So this week we got it all started.  Little girl's behind has not been diapered since Monday (for future reference, like when alien races use blog posts to better understand human behavior, today is Thursday).  I've learned that if you just plan to shampoo the carpet when this is all done, and consign yourself to doing a buncha extra laundry, it's not really that big of a deal.  PLUS, it has some amazingly entertaining perks!

Things I've learned while potty training my daughter:
1) I've discovered that my daughter is a tiny little liar.  I don't know why, these lies don't enhance her life, but she tells them anyway.  
"Madelyn, did you pee in bed?"  
"Yeah, I peed in da bed."
"Where did you pee?"
"Right dere, on da piwwow."
Her bed is dry as a bone and still smells like fresh laundry.  Trust me, this nose has gotten a work out this week, but at least 75% of the time, she's lying about this.  She hasn't actually peed in her bed once since Tuesday afternoon.

2) I've discovered my daughter does not understand what a "good job" is. On Wednesday she went to pee in her potty chair, but half missed and soaked the floor.
"Madelyn, what happened?  You peed on the floor!"
"Yeah, I peed on da floor.  ... Now get a candy!"
Just so we're clear, she doesn't get treats for peeing in the potty anymore.  She's really mastered that.  Treats are reserved for special things, like poop.  Somehow, she decided that floor pee was EXACTLY that special.
We might need to work on that.

3)  I've discovered my daughter is a poopaphobe.  By this I mean a couple of things.  She doesn't want to go poop outside of her diaper, so from Monday until late night Wednesday, she just didn't do it.  Then just before bed, as daddy was giving her a bath, he noticed she started to crouch.  In his sweetest daddy voice, he had this conversation with her:
"Madelyn, do you need to go poop?"
"Do you need to go pee?"
"Okay, remember, doon't go poopoo in the bath, just in the potty, okay?"
Then of course, she did poop in the potty.  Seems she cried that sucker right out.  It should be said, I look at this story as more of a perk because I wasn't around to witness it or of course, clean up after it.

But then today, to further emphasize the issue, she crouched down to poo on the floor again. By the time we noticed, some had landed (yeah, we're really keeping the carpet cleaning products industry in business.  Buy stock.)  As I scooped her up to rush her to her potty, she turned her head and noticed in the floor.  She pointed in terror and let out a blood-curdling scream, as if she'd pooed out a tiny little serial killer bent on her immediate destruction.  I agree, dear daughter, poop is terrifying.  That's why we flush it down the toilet where no one ever has to see it ever.

So that's our adventures so far this week.  She won't have to leave the house, even for a moment, till some time on Saturday, and with any luck, she'll have the hang of it by then.  Too soon? Guess we'll see!

Until then, folks, have a happy Thursday!  And if any of you actually made it this far in a gigantor post about my daughter's potty habits, well, you deserve a standing ovation.  Take a bow, because the clapping is happening now, and it's all for you, Baby.  All for you.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Isn't it romantic? No? No??

I was having a pleasant conversation with someone the other day, who suggested that after my stomach flu, my face was looking gaunt.  Like everyone else who has ever been through that particular terror, I'd lost some weight, maybe 8 or so pounds.  I gained a few back, but I had to agree, less so in the face.  My cheeks weren't looking quite as full as they had recently become.

So a day or two later as I was casually chatting with my dear and devoted husband, I mentioned the conversation.  I agreed with my previous conversant, my face was looking a little more normal and a little less 8 months pregnant, but, I followed, gaunt?  I don't think my face even has the capacity to look gaunt.

"SERIOUSLY!" My dear and devoted husband agreed, emphatically. "It's like, a basketball is never going to look gaunt.  I mean, at best it might look deflated..."

Ahh, young love.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Wow. Today is freaking amaze-balls.

Today is a monumental and incredible day.  Today is better than at least 80-90% of all other days.  Never mind that today is sunny and beautiful but not too hot and it's a Saturday.  Those things are all awesome, definitely.  B... Wait. No.  This is an emergency.

I just read a review of a replacement battery for the Roomba, something which I also need to purchase.  This review is done... in a poem.  It may be the best thing I've ever read in my whole life.

Anyway, I know those other things are awesome, and now that review was also awesome, but this day has a whole 'nuther reason for awesomeness.  Today, I am unemployed.  Well, disabled?  Well, home.  That's the point.  I'm home now, and I'm home until mid-July and it is in-foh-reaking-credible.   Today I finished my last work chore or two then emailed off the last things from the ridiculously long list of tasks my week had.  Then I went and played in the backyard with my daughter for 2 hours while my husband, who it should be said, is like, wicked sexy, cleaned the house.  The house, which had developed a mountain of laundry and a carpet of toys and strewn about blankets and things my daughter found in the office and decided to redecorate into the living room while I spent a week of days and nights glued to my computer screen and cell phone.

Last year when Shane and I went on an anniversary vacation, 3 nights away which was by FAR our longest trip away from our little girl ever, I remember feeling this uncanny sense of relaxation.  Like I weighed fifty pounds less and could kind of float, like those videos of guys walking on the moon.  I found myself spontaneously giggling.  Certainly we missed Madelyn, but to experience some real freedom from responsibility for the first time in almost two years, well, I felt lightheaded from it.  All this to say, I feel that same way now.

Okay, NO I don't feel 50 pounds lighter, sorta the opposite, but I feel freed.  I feel buzzed out on happiness.  I feel like, "yes, Madelyn, let's go outside and dance around to the music in our heads.  That's exactly how I feel too."

Sure, maternity leave is going to get super exhausting, especially during the 2 1/2 months when I actually have a new baby around.  But right now, thanks to my amazing tummy pinching doctor, who put me on leave because I was in a good deal of pain during my full work day, and who actually said, "You need to be home! You deserve it!" I get FIVE weeks now to hang out with my daughter, rest, clean, read, crochet, cook, and prepare for our new little guy.  I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate this transition from 3 person family to 4.  It's amazing and I feel like a new person.

I'm pretty sure this post is all rambley and difficult to read, and I'm sorry, but also, I'm not.  I'm way too happy to be sorry.  In fact, I think I'm going to have to go dance some more.  Adios suckers, have fun at your lame sauce JOBS all week.  Woo HOO!!

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Some things I learned this week.

I found this fascinating.  Apparently, a person's body, even when that person is very nice and giving and cares a lot about others, a person's body doesn't like being pregnant.  Or, at least part of your body.  Namely, your immune system doesn't like being pregnant.  It looks at the growing baby like it's some sort of bathroom fungus it would like to eradicate immediately.  Of course, there's always a nicer part of your body, which may or may not be the brain, and this part decides to stop the immediate eradication of your baby fungus.  Of course, when good fights evil in times like these, good can't just say, "hey Evil, go ahead and live your normal life, it's totally cool, but you can't do A, B, and C anymore".  No.  That never works. Evil needs to be imprisoned, or in some newer, darker stories, just straight up killed.

Same thing happens inside a pregnant person.  Good Guy Brain imprisons Evil-Doer Immune system to stop all potentially baby-killing behaviors.  And that seems to work.  Bonus, for these 9 months, it seems you get to forfeit a functional immune system.  It's awesome.  Take that, Evil Doer. And... me.

This fun new fact explains why, in the past few months, I've had colds, sinus infections, two rounds with bronchitis, and now, the stomach flu.  Yes, being pregnant can make you feel sick a lot.  But also, it can apparently MAKE you SICK.  Like, loads.  It's awesome.

Second thing I learned: What it's like to get sick at Disneyland.  And yes, I mean GET. SICK.  Like, Oh God oh God, why do they put the bathrooms so far away, I cannot, canNOT projectile vomit across the Happiest Place on Earth.  If you're curious, it's a particularly miserable place to get sick, especially when walking is a problematic aspect of your illness.  However, it is somewhat saved in that there are lots of areas where you can lounge in the shade, sip water and potentially nod off while your husband takes your child around to various attractions, so that the whole experience isn't a complete loss for everyone involved.

Anyway, feeling somewhat better, besides an increasingly oppressive headache.  Hope you're learning some less painful and less humiliating lessons of your own this week!

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Another weigh in... wuf.

May I say, this weighing in thing is getting a little embarrassing. It's one thing to talk about the weight you used to weigh as you get lower and lower, it's something entirely different to let people know how big you're getting on the upswing.  However, just like the other areas of painfully honest self disclosure, this process was disclosed thoughtfully and purposefully.  This is what's happening with me now.  This is what loads of folks go through and don't talk about, and this is going to determine my next "starting weight".  So as nasty as it sounds every month, this is gonna keep happening.

At the beginning of my first pregnancy I was approached by a good friend.  She said to me, "You're going to end up weighing over 200 pounds.  Just know that.  Cry a little when you hit that mark, we all do, and then move on with your life."  Of course, I didn't believe her.  Just because SHE had gained that much, didn't mean I would.  In fact, I was pretty well assured that, though I've struggled with my weight my whole life, somehow this would be a magical 9 months wherein I pretty much weighed the same.  I figured I'd gain 15 pounds max, and leave the hospital with an adorable baby and a smaller waistline than the day she had been conceived.  Quick question:  Is it some sort of pregnancy hormone that makes you this delusional, or is it just me?  I'm assuming it's the same hormone that keeps convincing me how much awesome time I'll have during my maternity leave to get loads of stuff done around the house, and neglects to remind me that I won't get a single night's sleep for those 2-3 months after our new member joins the family, and will feel exactly like a physically disabled zombie every single day during that time.

Anyway, in an attempt to add my "no more than 15 pounds" during that first pregnancy I gorged myself, quite regularly in fact, on various kinds of nasty greasy fast foods.  Some days, due to my all day of work followed by school late into the night schedules, I ate out multiple times a day.  And by some days, I'm pretty sure I mean some days out of every week.  Milk shakes, burgers, loads and loads of chicken nuggets, etc etc etc etc.  And I gained around 40 pounds at my pregnancy biggest. Start around 170, reached all the way up to 212, and dropped to around 208-209 the weekend before I gave birth.  Yikes, right?  Especially since I was about 15 pounds overweight when I started, and my doctor would have also liked me to have taken the 15 pound route.  Which he liked to mention every month during my appointment. "Okay... but that's probably about enough weight now..."

This pregnancy though, was different.  I eat at home.  I actually cook.  I eat lots of fruit and more vegetables than before at least, and although I'm not in anyway counting my calories, I don't feel like I'm doing too bad.  Weight gain to date?  About 32 pounds.  I'm right at 180, with just under 2 months left.  I am right on track to gain just about 40 pounds this pregnancy, and almost none of those pounds were directly contributed by Jack in the Box.  Point here is something interesting:  Maybe that's what my body thinks is appropriate.  Of COURSE I'm sure that if I counted calories religiously and had continued running through this pregnancy I could have kept my weight gain closer to the the 25lb mark.  Oh, and yes you heard right, I'm not exercising these days.  It makes me have contractions which hurt for like, 2 hours after.  I assume this is my body saying "Yo, dude, take it easy. I'm busy building this human in here.  Maybe you should take another nap.")  But just the same, despite some pretty radical differences in this pregnancy versus the last, my body wants to gain 40 pounds.  My body does not seem to realize that tiny babies weigh like, 8 pounds.  My body thinks, "wow, people are pretty heavy, and I have to make a whole new one?  We better store up some resources."

Of course though, there's always the bright side:  Again, I have less than 8 weeks left.  Cuz really, how much can you gain in two months?  Don't answer that.  Another, maybe more obvious, bright side:  Getting fat is tres worth it when it means having a rockin' new little baby around here.  Couldn't be more excited for little Kaden's arrival, no matter how chubby the arms are that cuddle him up when he's here.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Happy New Toy Day!!!

After about two months of research, checking into prices, looking into services I've never heard of, and considering some options that seemed definitely shady and quite possibly criminal, we finally made a decision about our cell phone plan!

Drum roll please......

We're staying with Sprint!!

Wow, I can actually feel your lack of enthusiasm wafting off you like a terrible terrible stench. So before all of you with your Verizon and AT&T plans start sticking your big ol' top of the line extra 'spensive noses at me, remember that I have unlimited mobile to mobile. And data. With no data limit. And all of a sudden now, I got to magically upgrade my palm pre (that received a fair amount of harassment from our salesman friend) to a super wicked awesome white iPhone.

Aside to our Sprint sales friend: we had palm pres because they were highly rated and served our purposes at the time. And we still had them now because our contracts just ended now. Sorry that we're not the kind of people who would break our contract just for fancier phones. So bite me.

But now, now I have an iPhone. And it's the best freaking toy I've ever had. Good gracious it's so much fun being an adult.

Anyway, to commemorate this event I'm blogging from said iPhone. Oh good heavens I just realized I can speak it out instead. My life will just never be the same again.
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