Day 21 and I'm running out of the good material

NaBloPoMo is getting kind of old. I really don't have enough angst in my life to make it worth writing every day, unless it is about poop. Or "blow farts" as we are calling them these days. I probably have enough comic material to write every day, but not enough talent to put it out there consistently.

So now you are stuck with the blow by blow of my days, for at least another nine days anyway. Enough to make my newsletter subscribers cancel. Seriously. One did the other day. :(  It makes me sad.

Noah is off school all week. We had a nice day today running errands and then had lunch at Panera. Except for the non-stop chatter, which is overwhelming at times, he was very fun to be with.

I realized during lunch that he has an amazing talent at deflecting conversation. In the past when he wouldn't answer a question we assumed that he didn't understand it, or didn't have enough incite yet. Well, it hit me today when I told him his teacher was concerned about his behavior at school, and asked him what he thought about that. With out missing a beat, he looked at me and said "mom, you having something green on your tooth." I removed the piece of lettuce, and then asked him the question again, and he just as smooth as could be ignored it and asked me something else. It was then that I realized what he was doing, and I started laughing. I called him on it and he tried to deflect again, but I was laughing too much and it made him laugh too. Little booger.

His parent-teacher conference was this afternoon. It wasn't that painful. While his progress report wasn't exactly spectacular (more like dismal), his teacher told me that she thinks he knows the information, but it just isn't reflected in his work. We all agree that he is struggling to retrieve and apply what he knows.

No answers on how to fix it, but good to know we are on the same page.

The good news is that his teacher is in full agreement that Noah doing some type of structured physical activity or a social skills class after school would be more beneficial than homework. That takes some pressure off me instead of trying to balance both.

I'm going to try and find a swim club/group for him. Or possibly gymnastics. Something that is a small group with an instructor that has experience with special needs. Wish me luck on that! Might as well reach for the sky, right?

He had another "blow fart" incident tonight, just as I was leaving to meet my Wise Mommy Friend for a drink and movie. It is clear that I need to teach him to aim his asshole down I guess, since it keeps hitting above the bowl. I suppose that is the difference between having a big ass like mine that covers the hole in the seat, and having a tiny tush like he does that leaves room for spray.

Wise Mommy Friend and I saw Breaking Dawn. It made me laugh. Definitely heavy on the cheese. But, I wouldn't have missed it. And I can't wait for part 2 to come out.

We see TNP tomorrow. The first time since our Elephant in the Room session two weeks ago. Wish me wisdom and patience.

Who wants to come play with us?

The enemas have arrived.

They are sitting in a bag on the dining room table.

Neither Rich nor I are verbally acknowledging their presence.

Maybe if we ignore them long enough one will magically insert itself up Noah's butt.*

Until then, I think we may have ourselves a game of enema chicken going on right now.

Just another Friday night in the MNT household.


*And maybe the toilet will magically unclog itself too.

Update: I lost. Or to be more accurate Noah chose me. Oh the love.

He was a total champ BTW. I was about to type that he "took it like a man" but that just seems all shades of wrong. You know, because most men I know clench just at the thought of an enema.

Warning - deep poop ahead

Today Noah saw a pediatric gastroenterologist. 

It was no surprise when she told us he was full of shit. 

Well, maybe she didn't use those exact words. 

He has "functional constipation." Also, no surprise. We have been dealing with this for years. 

So the plan is to really clean him out, which means 3 to 5 days of daily enemas, plus oral stool softeners and stimulants, in addition to the fiber gummies and Mirilax that he already takes. After he is really clean we then get to try and keep him pooping every day. 

He has never been an every day pooper, but we have also not been successful in getting and keeping him regular with any consistency. Rich and I agree though, that its time to turn Noah into a Super Pooper.

Right now the poor kids rectum is so stretched out that the normal sensation that goes to the brain to tell you you have to poop isn't working. So even when he's literally "full of shit" he doesn't feel the urge to go.

Add that to his developmental delays and general poor body awareness, and it makes sense that he doesn't connect stomach cramps or pain with needing to poop. 

And the part that frustrates me the most, although I'm really trying to stay patient, is that even when we remind him over and over that just because he doesn't feel it, he still has to try and poop. Some how we need to get him to understand and remember because when his belly button is sticking out like a pop up turkey timer, it means he waited too long.

Tonight Rich and I will be out for a couple hours at karate (promotional workout tonight - new belts for both of us) so instead of leaving the baby sitter with the after effects of an enema, I think we will wait to do that until tomorrow. I pay our baby sitter well, but asking her to do that is a bit outside the job description.

POOP

Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  shit  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop   diarrhea   poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  in  the  closet?   poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  shit  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop you have got to be fucking kidding me  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  in his pants too  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop there is not enough vodka in the house poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop  did  I say  poop? poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop is a palindrome huh  poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop oh crap the pooppoop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop should have taken a picture poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop I am so over the poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop no more freaking poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop!

Our ten year wedding anniversary - part deux

We spent the rest of our anniversary day working, taking Noah to the attachment therapist, and then getting the boys to bed.

And then we met on the couch to enjoy some wine and cheese and watch a movie.

Here were some of the options for movies that we entertained and snippets of the commentary we amused ourselves with:

A Perfect Getaway - after the morning we had we could have used one.

Don't Let Me Drown - well then don't piss me off

Disaster Movie- 'nuff said


Ghosts of Girlfriends Past - never a good thing to discuss, especially on your anniversary

I Love You, Man - As long as I'm the one saying it.


Jennifer's Body - who's Jennifer?


Summer Catch - I was, wasn't I?


We ended up settling on The Time Travelers Wife (which dude, I somehow never read the book, so the ending? Not exactly what I was hoping for.)

Rich filled our wine glasses from the bottle of Mommy's Time Out my boss bought me several weeks ago (how's that for awesome?) and then he uncovered the cheese plate before he went to grab the bread he had warming.

And as he walked away this nasty odor hit me and I was all "geeze, did you seriously just fart and walk away? You couldn't have waited? So romantic."

Rich vehemently denied doing any such thing, which I of course didn't believe, because the evidence was in the air! And my nose. And past history people - ten plus years of living with the guy. I know what he is capable of.

He continued to deny it though, and at that point I had to believe him, because really, what man denies producing a nose burner like I was smelling? It was the kind that you brag about to your guy friends at work the next day (at least I assume they do that, right?). So for him to deny it made no sense at all.

Well the smell didn't dissipate. I was a bit perplexed until I realized it was coming from the general area of the coffee table. Where the cheese plate was.

For our anniversary? My husband bought us fart cheese.

OMG, this was the worst smelling cheese I have ever encountered.

And not only did it smell like fart, it tasted like fart.

Don't ask me how I know what a fart tastes like, because until then I had no idea. I do now though, and it is not one bit pleasant. Just trust me on that.

And I was all "Dude, you have got to take this back and tell them something is wrong with it. Just tell them it tastes like farts. Like maybe the cow is sick. Maybe it's serious? The entire herd could be dying or something. It could be a fatal disease. A prion disease. But maybe we could stop it in time, before it is transferred to humans! We could save humanity if you would only take it back and tell them they sold us fart cheese!"


Even after ten years I have the power to make him speechless.

And that my friends is how we spent the evening of our ten-year wedding anniversary.

Well I started a post last night about my day, which varied between craptastic and semi-awesome. I started reading it over tonight to finish and publish it, but ho boy was it a snoozer! Like I was detailing my suit choice for the day down to the final shoe selection boring.

I'm pretty sure my intent was to share with you all that I woke up to Noah having a "poop emergency" in his pajamas. Yes, it was gross, and the only possible solution in my half awake state was to send him to the shower.

And then I got dressed (in a suit because I had to see a client) and found out my black pumps had been peed on (cat pee, not boy pee). My other cool black shoes all of a sudden feel about half a size to small. I ended up wearing my every day sandels and just hoped no one would look down at my feet. I have a date with Zappos at work sometime tomorrow.

The client meeting went fine, despite some directional failure getting there. It was nice to have some uninterrupted time to talk with my colleague about work and non-work stuff. The highlight of the conversation was when we were talking about clothes and how I envy her wardrobe. She always looks so well put together. I know she worries at times if she is dressing too young (which she doesn't) so I told her she is definitely a MILF. I think I made her day, especially after I told her what it meant.

Later in the evening when both Noah and Kiel were home they were just adorable together. Kiel wanted to play with these magnet toys that built things, and he wanted help. So I told him to ask Noah. Just listening to their conversations is adorable. "Chummie, help build please?" And Noah did and they were just adorable. Noah would ask him to do something and Kiel would say "okay Chummie."

Until Kiel started to get a little wound up and Noah wanted him to stop doing whatever it was. Kiel didn't stop, so I heard Noah say "Kiel, I command you to stop." Damn it if the little shit didn't stop.

I now know what my next comeback is going to be when Noah isn't listening.

They ended the night by hugging and Noah saying to Kiel "I love you." It just warmed my heart.

Then this morning Kiel was up so early and he was playing in our room. Noah woke up at 6:15 and came in and got Kiel and took him downstairs. I kind of knew it was happening, but was in that sleep stage that allows for denial. They did awesome though. Noah made Kiel chocolate milk and they watched TV together.





It was family visitation day at camp, so Rich went for the morning and he said Noah did great. Noah came home in a great mood and continued to be helpful and kind with Kiel.

And Kiel continued to charm me all day with his adorable "OK mommy" even when he didn't want to do something. Or singing his "clean up, clean up" song when he was cleaning up.


 And I'm just happy and content the last couple days, which feels good.

And you? Craptastic or fantastic day?

Adventures in Apartment Cleaning - the toilet story (updated)

I wouldn't say I'm quite out of the writers funk yet, but I do believe in the "fake it until you make it" theory, so I'm going to share one of todays adventures with you.

Rich and his brother moved their mother into a nursing home a few weeks ago. I wrote about it here for the Philly Moms Blog. So go, read, comment! No really, comment!

She is actually adjusting well to the move, which is a huge weight off of us. She is enjoying having people around her now, instead of being stuck in her apartment by herself. I was very concerned that she would hate it, but I was wrong! I am so happy I was wrong!

I've spent a couple afternoons over at her old apartment trying to get things sorted, cleaned, and boxed up. Her apartment always looked so neat, but ho'boy did she have shit stashed everywhere! I think she saved every take out container she ever took home. Two full cupboards of them, plus 100's of those little dip sauce cups laying around.

In one way it has been interesting doing this, as I've had a chance to learn a little more about her, just from what I'm finding in drawers, etc. Pictures of her and Rich's dad from well before I ever met them. Pictures of extended family that I've never heard of.

It's also been interesting because I've had to take the boys with me. We capped out our baby sitting budget for the month already with our nephews wedding Sunday (which is another story I should tell) so I've been taking the boys with me to "help."

Today Noah helped by having one of his elephant size poops in her toilet, then didn't tell me it didn't all flesh down. Then he encouraged Kiel to go in there and flush the toilet over and over.

I realized I was hearing running water after I heard Noah tell Kiel to run. That got me suspicious, so I ran to the bathroom to find water flowing from the base of the tank. There was probably a good inch on the bathroom floor by then.

I first tried to turn off the water to the toilet, but the valve wouldn't move at all. So then I messed with the innards of the tank, with no luck. At that point I just shoved my hand into the toilet up to my elbow and grabbed the wad of paper and elephant turd until it was unplugged. My right arm stills feels dirty.

So then I was trying to find something to clean up the water and I couldn't find any of her towels. I don't know if my brother in law packed them away for Salvation Army or took them himself, but they were no where to be found. So I grabbed a pile of bed sheets from her closet and started throwing them on the puddle of water. Soak the sheet, toss it in the tub, then soak up the next one.

I was moving as fast as I could because I was concerned the water would leak down into the apartment below hers. As soon as I had the majority of the water up I was going to run down and knock on the door and let them know what happened. Well, they beat me to it with a phone call. That Kiel answered. The first time he has answered the phone as far as I know - and yes, adorable! But oh so not the time.

Bea lived in an apartment building full of old women. Who ever the woman was that called screeched into my ear as soon as I said hello and asked "what is going on up there, there is water pouring down from my ceiling" in a not so nice tone of voice I might ad. So I told her the toilet overflowed and she responded with "what? the toilet?". I wasn't sure if I needed to explain what a toilet was or that she just didn't believe me.

I told her I was doing everything I could to clean it up but the more time I talked to her the longer it was going to take. To that I heard the "hmmmphh/well" noise. And then she hung up.

I was afraid for my safety for a few minutes there. I thought she was going to come up and kick my ass!

I was pretty pissed at the boys. Mad, very mad. I do believe I muttered "those miserable, miserable children" a few times. Noah was smart enough to stay quiet and out of my way. Kiel on the other hand thought it was all a big game.

Fun stuff, I tell you. I just really hope I didn't screw her out of any of her security deposit because of our little stunt. Oy...

Update: Rich's brother emailed him this morning to tell him he had to go over to the apartment right away and deal with things because the woman below her was complaining. (His emails are always so pleasant, almost as nice as his voice mails.)

I assured them both that there was no water when I left yesterday so the woman had to be complaining about the actual overflow incident, not something new. Well, then the maintenance office called Rich at work to say that there was still water coming down, but they didn't have a key to get in her apartment to check it out.

I still had her keys, so I raced out of work and met Rich at the apartment. The entire ride thinking how could I have possibly missed that water was still leaking from the toilet, and feeling like absolute shit that I was responsible for some major incident. And knowing that Rich's brother was not going to handle any of this very well.

So Rich and I get there and we nervously open the door to her apartment, expecting to find a total mess.

Open the door...and everything is fine. We slowly walk towards the bathroom, testing out the carpet expecting it be wet. And nothing.

Enter the bathroom and check out the floor. Nothing.

Get down on my hands and knees and feel around the toilet and still nothing. Not even condensation. Dry as an f'ing bone.

I have no idea what is going on, but maintenance is supposed to go over later to check it out. I suppose Noah's elephant poop could have exploded a pipe further down. They are pretty big.

And the entire time I was there today? I had to pee so bad I actually considered peeing in one of the damn Chinese soup containers that was filling her cupboards. There was no way I was going to use that damn toilet!




I

We haven't discussed poop in a while!

Don't forget to go here and enter my business card giveaway! They'd make great "mommy cards" or blog cards too! 
Or here to enter to win a $50 Safeway gift card! 

Just continuing to keep it real on MNT!  

Don't worry there aren't any pictures (Oh wait, yes there are. Let's just consider them "illustrations," OK?).

Episode 1: Noah's talent (aka For a boy so small how is this possible?)

The other night after getting both boys in bed I walked into the bathroom to find Noah had been there and not flushed after his visit.

In the toilet was something that looked very similar to the drawing below.

I'm guesstimating that the upper curve was a good foot long. Seriously. No exaggeration. The stick on the bottom six inches at a minimum. 

It was impressive. I can't lie. 

When you consider this came out of a boy that is only six years old, and a small six at that? Astounding.

And the kicker? There wasn't a shred of toilet paper in the toilet, or anywhere else in the bathroom. 

He's six. Trying to figure out why he didn't wipe is beyond me.

Unless he just wanted to preserve the evidence of his creation.

Episode 2: Consider this a PSA of the Kiel variety

Imagine my surprise when I changed Kiel's diaper this afternoon and it was full of white polystyrene pellets. And it sparkled.

Not impressive, but interesting. 

As were the two additional diapers I changed over the next hour.  

Apparently Kiel ate some of Noah's PlayFoam. And his GI tract decided to "Squish it, Sculpt it, and Mold it!"

Fortunately Kiel isn't the first child to eat it, as this is the information on their website:

The Play Foam beads are non-toxic, non-allergenic and contain no gluten, proteins or other allergens. The beads are made of phthalate-free polymers and foam. The beads are tasteless and may cause slight diarrhea if ingested.

They are correct about the diarrhea by the way.

My husband is a butt wipe...I mean wiper...a butt wiper.

At three months shy of 7 years old  holy crap how did that happen! I refuse to do Noah's paperwork in the bathroom for him anymore.

You may think I'm being a bit of a hard ass on this, but damn it, the boy didn't poop on the potty consistently until he was six. I think I gave him a pretty long rope on this one.  And with the encopresis I'm still washing poop out of his underwear occasionally, so cut me some slack.

One of the big reasons I refuse to do his paperwork anymore? The kid has the stinkiest shit* I have EVER encountered. OMFG but it is foul! I have actually had to leave the bathroom so I wouldn't puke in front of him. 

Considering he can clear a room for a good ten minutes with his farts I guess the intensity of his poop smell is no surprise.

Now Rich, as everyone who knows us for realz can attest, is a much nicer person than I am, much nicer. His daddyness beats my mommyness hands down. The only reason I somewhat consistently win with Kiel is that I have the boobs, although that talent has seriously waned over the last couple months and I may have to start pulling out the big guns soon...like candy.

Anyway...

So Rich, being the nice pushover daddy that he is, will still wipe Noah's butt for him.

And Noah's no dummy, so guess who he calls for when he's not feeling the motivation to tend to his own personal needs? Well it sure isn't me! 

I've even been known to pass on the message to Rich if he doesn't hear the pleas for help. Because not only does Noah know that unless you are under four or it is my own ass, I will not be wiping it, Rich knows this too.

So with all of that as background, here is the conversation Rich and I had tonight:

Me:  You know, Noah almost never asks me to wipe his butt when you aren't home, and when he does, I say "no, you can do it," and he says "OK, mommy," and he does

Rich:  I guess I'm just nicer than you are.

Me:  Well, duh, we already knew that!

Rich: *feeling superior*

Me: But you know what that makes you don't you?

Rich: *cautiously, because he too is no dummy* umm, no, what?

Me:  A butt wiper! heh heh

Rich: *eye roll*

Me: heh heh...butt wiper


*random fact - "my shit stinks" is consistently one of the top five search terms that lead people to this blog. I've now given them another reason to stay.

Mr. Poopy Pants is running out of tighty whities

We have two issues going on with Noah right now that we don't quite know what to do about.

The first one I mentioned in my last post. Noah has encopresis (meaning sometimes he leaks poop) and we've been seeing a pediatric GI doc for a couple years. For the most part I think we have it under control. But, we still have periods of time where there is poop in his underwear on a daily basis.

We've done everything we can to try and make it easier on his bowels. He is on a high fiber diet, he takes Miralax every day, and he has to sit on the toilet every morning and night. Sometimes he has no problems, poops on his own, and has clean underwear for days and weeks at a time. And then there are the days and weeks where his underwear is streaked or worse (and boy do I hate the "worse." Sometimes I just throw his underwear out without even trying to clean it. The boys poop stinks. And I mean STINKS. Baby poop I have no problem with, but big boy poop makes me gag.).

I know that potty training in itself can be a control thing with kids. Its really one of the few things they have total control over, besides perhaps eating. I'm just not sure if whats going on with Noah, or at least part of whats going on, is a control thing or if its all physical.

According to the article I linked to above we are doing everything they suggest, except the "poop chart." And the not getting frustrated bit.

Our second issue has to do with the lock on Noah's bedroom door and his night time awakenings. I'll tackle that with my next post I think.

Reminder: You can vote for me every day for Best Local Blog in Nickelodeon's Parents' Picks Awards! It would be nice to at least stay in third place. It would be even better if I could get more than 10% of the vote! I'm not to proud to beg! Please, Vote here!

bodily function update

****************TMI alert***************

Mr. Poopy Pants has left the building. Yeah for no more diarrhea!

Unfortunately, after a two-year sabbatical, "Aunt Flo" decided to make a visit. This meant asking Kiel where he hid my stash of "products," which he likes to pilfer from my bathroom drawer and hide around the house.

Mr. Poopy Pants

OK, I have a good reason for not being around for a bit. Really, I do.

And it involves poop. And puke. And more poop. Two weeks worth.

I have ALL the fun!

After a week of vomit and diarrhea Kiel ended up in the ER due to dehydration. They admitted him for the night because his electrolytes were all wacked out. He got IV fluids with some added potassium and perked up within a few hours.

It was a LONG night and not very comfortable for mommy. There were a few cute spots though, like when we first put him in the crib in the room. It was a big metal thing with metal bars and raised up so the mattress is high enough that doctors and nurses can work on a baby that is in it. Hospital cribs always remind me of elevated circus cages, kind of like this:


But without the man in the suit in it.

So anyway, when we first put Kiel inside it he busted up laughing. He just thought it was the funniest thing! He was all "Me? in a crib? Bwah hah haha!"

And then later, when he was feeling a little better he wanted to be out walking in the halls. So there he is in his monkey pj's, with an IV in his arm attached to an IV pump on wheels, with me chasing after him pushing the IV around. He was just too freaking cute.

I'm so thankful though we were only in the hospital for one night and it was for something relatively minor that was so easily treated. Believe me, several times I thought of all the other parents in similar situations but with far sicker children with much scarier problems. We were very lucky!

Kiel is feeling much better now. He's just like his old self except he still has diarrhea. Thirteen days of diarrhea now. Which means thirteen days he has not been able to go to daycare. Thirteen days that Rich or I have had to stay home. And its not over yet, because the diarrhea continues.

I took him back to the pediatrician today and they said it could be a few more days. Last week they were fairly sure it was the Norwalk virus, today they were saying it might be the rotovirus. I guess it doesn't matter either way as there really isn't a treatment for either other than keeping hydrated. Both are contagious and the virus sheds through the diarrhea. They sent me home with a stool sample kit. So there I was this afternoon scooping poop out of his diaper in to specimen containers to take to the lab. Really, I DO have all the fun!

I have to say work has been great about me missing so much time. I've been in a couple times and twice I took Kiel in with me for the morning last week when he was feeling better. And I've done some work from home, so I will only have to use a couple days of personal time for this.

Hopefully we are on the mend!

PSA

Everything you wanted to know about flatus but was afraid to ask.

New Years eve update

So Amazing Daddy dragged me to the doctors about ten days ago. She medicated me up and I'm finally starting to feel a little better. Still not all butterflies and bunny rabbits, but I wasn't quite that before either. At least every other thought isn't how everyone would be better off if I left. AD has been a rock through this.



Baby Brother continues to enchant me most of the time. We saw his first smile the Saturday before Christmas. Now he smiles all the time. And has the most adorable little cooing sounds.



He also amazes me with the sheer amount of gas he produces. I mean this boy can toot! And the last couple days it has started to really smell! Which makes me wonder just what I've been eating to cause that smell. I thought breast poops weren't supposed to smell. Or was that just wishful thinking on my part? Any thoughts fellow mommy's? Is this amount of gas normal? It's so frequent that now The Boy blames all his toots on his Baby Brother.

Breast feeding has been interesting. Lately he's been at them all day long! It was getting a bit overwhelming. Twice over the weekend I gave him a bottle and both times he sucked down over two ounces of formula, so it finally hit me that maybe I wasn't producing enough at one time to fill him up. So this weekend I started to pump periodically through out the day. This morning I woke up with mammoth mam's. Wowzers! He's had a nice full belly today! He even took a three hour nap for me in his car seat this afternoon after a little stroll around the neighborhood. I feel like a new woman! Now I need to work on getting him to sleep at night without me holding him.



The Boy has been doing great with him! None of the aggression we had feared has surfaced. He's actually very gentle with him and frequently asking how he's doing. He doesn't care for it when he cries, but then again, I don't either. He seems to be handling my depression ok as well, but I know he's aware of it and I hate that. I hate that he sees me cry at times. Although he does tend to behave better when I'm crying.

So happy new year everyone! And with this I'm off to go change a diaper that smells strangely like buttered popcorn.

On husbands and an irritable uterus

Ok, so life is better. Sorry I haven't updated in a while.

Amazing Daddy and I went away for a few days the week before Labor Day and it was quite nice. Great to have a chance to reconnect and be alone for a while.

We also had a session with The Boy's therapist where we just focused on the two of us. That was good too, to have a facilitated talk. I was impressed at how open AD was able to be.

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On another note, AD and I spent our 7th wedding anniversary in Labor and Delivery last weekend. How's that for excitement?

Not really sure what happened, probably a combination of getting a little dehydrated, doing a little too much trying to get the baby's room ready, and being constipated. I had terrible lower abdominal cramps. So bad I could hardly move without crying. So we called the doctor on call and she sent us in. By that time I was pretty scared.

They hooked me up to a monitor and tried to get an IV in me. I'm not an easy stick. They finally had to call the IV team in to get one in, which took over an hour to get there. I was definitely having some contractions, or what they liked to call "uterine irritability." It felt like this band of extreme tightness across my lower abdomen that didn't ease up. I kept saying I thought contractions come and go, but this was constant. Fortunately the baby was doing fine, and my cervix was still long and closed. They did a fetal fibronectin test which came back negative, thus relieving more of my fears.

It was fun to hear the heartbeat for an extended period of time, and for a while we even got to hear him hiccup. Very cool. A couple times since then I've even felt him hiccup.

After about five hours they sent me home and told me to take it easy and said I have an irritable uterus (like that's the only thing irritable with me lately??). I was still in pretty bad pain when we got home. I just couldn't get comfortable and did lots of moaning and squirming. Poor AD. I think I scared him.

So I took it easy the next day and slept a lot. Praying I would poop sometime soon. I really think a lot of it was a big ol' stuck poop and then I stressed some accessory muscles. Who knows.

I was still uncomfortable for a few days, but I'm feeling much better now. I'm just trying to be very careful not to over do it, to keep hydrated, and to keep pooping.

I still feel tightening when I stand up from sitting or laying. I ordered a maternity belt to try and help with that. It came yesterday and seems to be useful, although it is quite a contraption to put on. Riding in the car is not comfortable any more. Taking The Boy to school in the morning and then getting to work is about as far as I can go, and even then I get out of the car and feel my uterus tightening up. I guess we won't be making that trip back to Michigan that I had hoped for at the end of the month.

So all in all, everything is ok!

Sore tussie and other various rants

Right now Amazing Daddy is upstairs begging The Boy to let him clean his tussie. Poor baby must have pooped during the night and slept in it for hours before we got up this morning. Even though he knows he can call to us to go change him if he needs to. He's pooped three more times today and each one has been a helacious challenge to clean him up because it HURTS! I feel like the meanest mommy ever because I'm trying to clean shit off of him. Now AD gets to feel like the meanest daddy ever.

Poor kid, I know it really hurts, but how do you make him understand that it will just get worse if we don't clean it off? How do I convince him if he would just go in the potty it wouldn't hurt as much because he wouldn't be sitting in it in his diaper.

On a lighter note, this evening when AD got home we were upstairs folding laundry so he came and sat on the floor with us. He told TB he had a surprise for him and did the ol' pull my finger trick. TB thought it was just the funniest thing every!! Now he won't stop pulling our fingers.

It would not be a good evening to just stop by, unless you routinely carry a respirator with you.


Side note rant: I really, really, really hate the god damn fucking popup blocker on my computers. I can't seem to decrease the sensitivity. It blocks every fucking thing I click on!

second side not rant: Comcast changed their channel line up last week. I can't find anything! I hate change!

I have got to stop reading blogs at work!

This post by Untitledlife had me close to pissing myself at work! I was laughing so hard that I started choking and a coworker thought I was crying. How do you explain to people at work that you think farts are just about the funniest thing in the world? So you read it, and tell me that you don't think that's just about the funniest post ever!

So it got me thinking about families and farting. I grew up in a family of farters. In fact, I thought my grandfather invented the elephant and pull my finger jokes. My father could clear out a room faster than anyone I knew. So it's no surprise that about half of my posts here have to do with farting or pooping.

My parents were in town a couple weeks ago for TB's third birthday party. As usual I was racing around a bit crazed the day before trying to get everything ready. And I kept smelling it...this foul odor. And then, I realized that it was always in the vicinity of my mother. Silent but deadly people! Kind of like when she's mad at me. So I called her on it and I think the lady blushed! And then she told me I wasn't supposed to be following her. I told her, that if she went outside to do it I wouldn't!

But I suppose, it's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black!

A few weeks ago TB was playing on our bedroom floor while I was getting dressed. I was only a few feet away from him when I let what we like to call a real butt flapper. I have to say I impressed myself with the shear enormity of it! When TB heard it he got this frightened look on his face and said "Mommy, what was that?" Of course I had to admit that I had tooted. "Oh...Mommy...you tooted...I a little scared!" said TB as he cowered on the floor in front of me.

Wow...Apparently I made an impression on my son, because he talked about it all day, to everyone we came in contact with. Then when Awesome Daddy came home I heard him say "Daddy...Mommy tooted...I a little scared," to which AD responded, "yes, Mommy's toots scare me too."

speaking of stink...

I woke up during the night thinking that I smelled something cooking, and it didn't smell right. Then I woke up enough to realize that Amazing Daddy had farted and I must have shifted the covers.

That was just wrong!

My shit stinks!

Yup, I never thought I'd have to admit it. But my shit done stink! And when I say stink, I mean sti-fucking-ink.

I'm on this new diet. A medically supervised, very low calorie diet, that is comprised mainly of high protein/low fat shakes, and whatever else you can figure out to do with the dry shake powder and an egg white or two. Yeah, yeah, yeah...I don't need to know what you think of it. Cause I'm loosing weight and my labs are good. The point here is...My shit stinks. Something akin to rotten eggs...Gone bad. And then concentrated. And then double that.

And naturally (ha), anything else that comes out of my anal sphincter reeks as well. I pitty my office mates. Because my bowels have gone toxic. Yes dear readers, my farts could blow you out of the room. For god sake, I can't even fart in my own car because it nauseates me, and it's too damn cold to open the windows!!!

Now, my Mama brought me up as a lady. And ladies, never, ever, pass gas in public. So, I wouldn't normally have to worry about my coworkers, because I'd let the top of my head blow off before I would rip one in public. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost some sphincter control, because they keep slipping out on me. Thankfully I'm close to the bathroom, so I try my best to contain it to that 6x6 space. But did I mention that the stench lingers? Actually, it's not only the stench that lingers, the damn shit is the stickiest shit I've ever had. It clings to the bowl. Even the required "double flush" doesn't seem to cut it. I apologize profusely to the poor fool who enters after me.

Take the hint! If the fan is still going...Better to risk the men's room!

Funny thing though.. dear, dear TB still feels he needs to be with me every time I'm in the bathroom. Perhaps his sense of smell is compromised along with his other sensory processing issues. And that, my child, is a good thing.

What makes me laugh (until I pee myself).

The other day I bought my son a pack of miniature whoopee cushions that I found on sale at Target.

Let me just say that I had the most amusing half hour watching him try to position his hind end on those tiny little balloons (and believe me, it took some maneuvering on his part). And then the pure joy that emanated from him as tiny puffs of air were released from the general vicinity of his rear, while he gleefully exclaimed "Mommy...I tooted!"

Of course, some of the hilarity on my end may have been a result of constantly blowing those damn things up, while inhaling the toxic fumes of the rubber/vinyl??? they are made of.