Filed under: Baby Momma
Wednesday August 12, 2009
Dear Emerson:
Today you are six months and 12 days old.
MORE POOP
In the past two days you have managed to defile two perfectly good work outfits with your explosive renegade poop storms.
Yesterday, after going into the studio for a couple of hours, I decided that I was going to make a quick stop at the health food store and then take you home for your afternoon nap. The day was calm. It was hot, but breezy. Nothing seemed amiss. We arrived at the health food store, and we chatted gaily as I unbuckled you from your car seat. I lifted you out of the car seat and situated you on my hip as I gathered my belongings. As I turned my body from the car, I suddenly noticed the enormous smear of POOP across the front of my pants and shirt. Gasp. I looked down at you in my arms, and you smiled up at me with a look of innocent nonchalance, as if you had already forgotten your trespass.
I didn’t know what to do. For a moment I was stunned into immobility. When I finally recovered, I fumbled around for some wipes. While doing so, I looked into your car seat to find a PUDDLE of poop. OH MY GOD. I managed to get the POOP PUDDLE cleaned up with the wipes. Then, using a burp cloth, I fashioned a barrier between your poopy butt and the car seat, I buckled you in, and we high tailed it home. No health food store for us.
Then, today, ATTACK OF THE KILLER POOPS: PART DEUX! We were sitting at the kitchen table at lunchtime, me in a chair and you in the brand new high chair that Grandma and Grandpa bought for you. I was eating my toast and you were playing with your blocks, when suddenly I hear, “PPHHHHHTTTTT……pppttttt……” I look up from my book and you are smiling at me.
Unaware of the intensity of the impending storm, I quickly finish my toast and pull you out of your high chair to change your diaper. As I hoist you to my hip, the moisture hits my arm. Arrrgh! I look down, and there is already a big smear of poop on the front of my gray slacks, along with a SPLATTER of poop on the kitchen floor. Let me say that again, A SPLATTER OF POOP ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR! Fortunately this time we weren’t in a parking lot twenty minutes away from home. As such, I was able to take you immediately to the decontamination room and get you stripped down and cleaned up. Thank goodness for little favors.
It is my hope that this is NOT the start of a new daily ritual. I really don’t have enough outfits for that sort of regiment, and I definitely don’t have time to do the necessary laundry.
I love you Poop-Asaurus-Rex.
Love,
Mommy
Filed under: Anna
Disclaimer: FilmChris, if my last post about baby poop caused you to question the relevance of this blog to your life, this next one is going to push you right over the edge. Sorry, in advance.
There are many many things that one does in preparation for the arrival of a new baby: decorate the nursery, take childbirth classes, buy diapers…..the list goes on and on. Well, one of the things that a number of women whispered to me behind the backs of the menfolk, was to make sure that I had an ample supply of giant cushy maxi pads for myself at the house. That way, upon my return from the hospital, I wouldn’t have to send my poor husband to wander helplessly through the feminine hygiene isle of Target.
Well, for those of you that know me, you can guess what I did. I went out and bought the entire feminine hygiene isle at Target. Anything with any amalgamation of the words “super” and “absorbent” went in my cart. BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW! Heaven forbid that I should be UNPREPARED and not possess the ONE PRODUCT that I would inevitably need. For those of you that don’t know, in Anna-land, there is a special corner of hell where the souls wander around feeling UNPREPARED and are propetually LATE FOR AN APPOINTMENT. GASP! GASP! THE HORROR! I know……you can send sympathy emails to my poor husband at ihaveaneuroticwife@yahoo.com.
You can shake your head at me all you want, but I was prepared!
- Side Note: For those of you that have not perused the feminine hygiene isle lately, they have made some incredible advances in maxi pad technology! The maxi pads of my youth (resembling large cotton ball filled pillow cases with a strips of adhesive on the backs) no longer exist. They have been replaced with the sleek, thin, ultra absorbent, winged, maxi pads of the future!
Then I discovered that the maxi pads that they have at the hospital were FAR superior to anything that an ordinary non-MD-ed person could get their hands on in the real world. These were special maxi pads, not available to the general public.
And as Sarah Palin would say, “You betcha!” I left the hospital with a bunch of those super special hospital maxi pads packed neatly and securely in my luggage (it isn’t stealing when they give them to you).
I have to say that in those first couple of weeks my maxi pad stockpile did make me feel secure and calm. Not only was everything that I could possibly need right at my finger tips, but I had options! It was like a mini-shopping experience every time I looked under the bathroom sink.
And now we come to the “dilemma” section of the story.
What do I do with all those stupid maxi pads? Needless to say, I didn’t come anywhere close to using all of my stockpile. So now I have a cupboard full of giant maxi pads that will never be used. But I can’t bring myself to throw them away because I spent perfectly good money on them (lots of it) and they are PERFECTLY GOOD MAXI PADS! What an inexcusable waste!
I am guessing that I don’t have any friends that use giant maxi pads on a regular basis, and I am fairly sure that it is generally considered a social faux pas to randomly approach pregnant strangers and offer them your almost full, but opened packages of Super Plus Ultra Absorbent Nighttime Always Maxi Pads with Wings.
So what do I do with all those dumb maxi pads? They have been cluttering up my bathroom cupboard for the past six months, and I am starting to get pretty sick of them taking up valuable bathroom space…..
I suppose if these are the questions that vex my mind, I should seriously contemplate GETTING A LIFE. Not only have I wasted time thinking about this stupid and frivolous problem, but I have wasted the last half an hour writing about it, which in turn has prompted YOU to waste your time reading about it.
Just in case you had any doubt – Damn, it is good to be an American. In many parts of the world they don’t have the ability to adequately manage their sewage. They have no toilets, much less toilet paper….and here I am, sitting on my couch, typing on my laptop, wondering how to dispose of my maxi pad stockpile. Let me say it again, “Damn. It is good to be an American.”
Yes, you read right, the title of this post is POOP.
Today Emerson gifted us with the most impressively gigantic poop OF HER LIFE. It was awesome, in the most literal sense of the word. It inspired awe. It must be the inevitable result of our recent foray into solid foods. For the past few nights Troy has been feeding her oatmeal at the studio before we head home for bed, and uncharacteristically, Emerson has actually been EATING some of it, rather than letting it ooze from her open mouth. The end (ha ha) result: POOP-O-RAMA!
One of the interesting things about becoming a parent is the almost immediate onset of the unabashed and unembarrassed “Poop Discussions.” Now in normal civilized interactions the subject of a loved one’s poop almost NEVER enters a conversation. That is, unless one of the members of said conversation has recently given birth – in which case, all bets are off. If you are the member of the conversation that has NOT recently given birth, BE WARNED! Graphic textural descriptions of excrement may arise at ANY MOMENT and WITHOUT WARNING! Also note that you will be expected to respond with perceived INTEREST and CONCERN! Because baby poo is INTERESTING and IMPORTANT stuff!
I think that this all falls into the category of “Things That You Don’t Really Think Will Ever Happen to You, Until They Actually DO Happen to You and Oh Well.”
Also in this category are (in no particular order – some baby related and some not – but almost all related to bodily functions and/or fluids):
- Passing gas in front of your beau (who if you have reached the passing gas stage, might already be, or perhaps soon will be revealed as, your soul mate and spouse).
- Noticing a little stain of poop on your child’s clothing and thinking, “Oh – it’s just a little bit of poop.” Then seriously debating whether it is worth changing your child’s entire outfit for such an inconspicuous and insignificant amount of feces. (Don’t know about ya’ll, but before I had a baby I pretty much thought that EVERY amount of feces was significant.)
- Peeing your pants as a grown-up. Don’t know about the boys on this one, but from what I can gather from the women, it almost always wrapped up in that pretty “Having a Baby” package – one of those totally awesome “also included at this amazing price, for only the cost of shipping!” add ons.
- Valuing comfort over style in: shoes, underwear, clothing…..….you name it. At home, my cotton underpants, jeans, t-shirt, and flip flop or sneakers outfit has become more than just an outfit, it has become a UNIFORM.
I don’t know if it is my age (quickly encroaching on thirty) or the fact that I just went through one of those defining life changing experiences (having a baby), but this list (and lists like it) seems to be growing for me at an exponential rate. Se la vie.
Filed under: Baby Momma
Tuesday August 4, 2009
Dear Emerson:
Today you are six months and four days old. I had planned to write to you on the actual date of your six month birthday, but things have been a little crazy busy around here for the last couple of weeks, so I am a little bit late.
SIX MONTHS
We can’t believe that you are SIX MONTHS OLD! You are getting so big! It is pretty amazing how much you have changed in six months. You are like a real person now, with a great big personality. Every day you get more and more observant and animated. Somewhere along the line you developed full cognition. You notice everything – always looking around like you totally get what is going on around you. We wouldn’t be surprised if you just woke up one day and started speaking in full sentences, telling us exactly what you thought about healthcare reform.
The Intensity that is Emerson
So here is a list of a few of your six month milestones:
- ROLLING OVER: You have got this one down pat. Despite the fact that you don’t spend very much time on the floor, you have figured out how to roll from your back to your front and from your front to your back (a more recent skill). Lately, when you are on your tummy you sort of squirm and scoot around, like you are trying to figure out how to achieve greater mobility. I have a feeling that crawling is knocking on our door. I guess that means that we will have to become more vigilant about baby-proofing the house……
Live Action Rolling Over!
- MAX: You have noticed that Max exists and have actually become pretty interested in his comings and goings. I don’t know if this bodes very well for Max. He is an exceptionally good natured fellow, but I am not sure that he is quite ready for the ear and whisker pulling that I foresee in his rather immediate future. Right now, he is cautiously affectionate with you……and rightfully so. I think that his instinct is right on the money. He should be a little wary.
Emerson & Max
- TEETH: You have two snaggly little teeth on the bottom, and for the past few days you have been joyfully working on cutting your first top tooth. When I say joyfully, I of course mean with great composure, calmly, and without fussing …..There should be a special function on the keyboard that allows for you to clearly denote SARCASM in your typing – like bold, or italics…..control “F” for FREAKING FACETIOUS! Although, I do have to say, that despite all of the drama surrounding the “teething chronicles,” your big snaggle tooth grin is face meltingly adorable, and you have developed this very loud very funny gum smacking noise that I think is pretty darn humorous. I am also hoping that “more teeth” is somehow correlated with “more likely to eat solid food” (see next bullet point).
- SOLID FOOD: We have started to introduce you to some solid foods. Although, introduce implies a two way conversation. For instance, we would say, “Oh hello Emerson, fancy seeing you here! I would like you to meet Mr. Rice Cereal or Miss Mushed Up Banana.” To which you might respond, “Ahhhh. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Pureed Sweet Potato. I have heard so much about you, and I must say, you are as delightful in person as the stories of you escapades would have led me to believe. I have so anticipated your arrival, Mrs. Squooshy Ripe Avocado, and now that you are here, I delight in your presence!” Yeah, much to my dismay, it hasn’t really gone like that. You are not very interested in the solid food game. While occasionally we can actually get you to consume one or two little spoonfuls, most of it ends up running out of your open mouth. It is like you can’t even be bothered to spit it out; you just leave your mouth open and let it fall from your cavernous lips. Often times you will actually gag a little bit as the tiny morsel of food touches your delicate tongue. A tad dramatic, don’t you think?
Sweet Potatoes
- FEET: While you don’t much care for solid food; you have a great love of your feet. I guess everyone has their priorities. You grab on to them and shake them about, whilst smiling gleefully. You have recently discovered the unparalleled joy of removing your socks. I have to say that I am right there with you on that one kid. I like taking off my socks too. There is really nothing better than walking around with bare feet. It is one of life’s fabulous little joys.
- SLING: Your Rubenesque physique has led me to some fairly extensive research in “baby wearing.” You are tipping the scales at about twenty pounds now, and that is an awful lot for me to lug around all day. My left bicep is becoming disproportionately large, as compared to the rest of my musculature, and while the very expensive Baby Bjorn worked well when you were a bit lighter, at your current weight it wreaks hellacious havoc on my back. Through a bit of trial and error, we have both fallen in love with the “Moby” style of sling, which is in essence a great big long piece of fabric that your wrap around your body six million times, encasing your baby in a cozy mummy-like hold against your body. It is awesome. The width of the fabric and the strategic placement of the wrapping distributes your twenty pounds much more graciously on my body, and you seem very content and happy carried around vertically so that you can see everything, smooshed up against a warm body. I wish that we had known about this in your first few months. I am positive that you would have been a much less fussy baby if we had carried you around all wrapped up in a Moby-style sling. Ahhh, the clarity of hindsight.
Baby Wearing
- SLEEP: Your sleep schedule is all over the map. For the first few months of your life, we were progressing slowly forward toward the holy grail of baby-dom, sleeping through the night. But now, if anything, you are becoming less predictable. Some nights you only wake up once or twice to eat, some nights it is two or three times. Some evenings you go down without any trouble at all, some nights you decide to mount an epic battle against the land of Nod. Most mornings you are AWAKE at 6:00 or 6:30, but then yesterday morning you slept until almost 8:00 (sweet relief). Who knows what is going on in the sleep centers of your brain? As far as napping goes, you are much more consistently sleepy during the day. Although, we have not seen much progress in the whole “napping alone in your own bed” goal. But on most days I can actually get you to take at least one long nap, which is definitely progress, and becoming NECESSARY in order for you to maintain civility in your social conduct. On a really good day we get two naps. Then you are a happy girl. I am starting to have the sneaking suspicion that naptime might always be a battleground for us. I suppose every mother/daughter relationship has a few.
We love you butter bean.
Love,
Mommy
