Posts Tagged ‘ diapers ’

Here Goes: My Dirty Diaper Confession

Friday, May 16th, 2014

I have a confession: I threw one of Emmett’s poop diapers in someone else’s trash. It wasn’t exactly intentional, but now I don’t know what to do. Ack. Here’s how it went down:

I don’t put poop diapers in the Diaper Dekor. Instead, I tie them up in little plastic baggies and dispose of them in our outside garbage. Otherwise I feel like I can smell the odor.

However, it’s a heat wave right now. Today’s high is 102-degrees. So even outside, our garbage is starting to smell. Everyone’s does. We live in the hills in Los Angeles, so the garbage bins are all curbside, in the direct sun. It’s really disgusting. The garbage trucks only come once a week, so you can imagine after a few day how it smells. The lids are kept down and it’s bearable, but as soon as you lift the lid up to toss something in, you have to hold your breath, throw, and run.

Not only do we have diapers, but we also have Wayne’s fecal matter to deal with. Even coated in scoopable liter, it’s still so gross I can barely write this without gagging. None of this helps my cleaning obsession.

This morning, Emmett had a particularly bad diaper.  I did my usual baggie system and we got ready to leave the house. But when I went to put the diaper in the outside bin, I realized the garbage truck had already come. I can’t stand the idea of this awful diaper being in there for a whole week, especially during this heat wave. So instead, I took the bagged diaper in my car, held my breath, cranked the a/c, and drove down the hill looking to see who had a closed lid. That usually indicates the garbage truck hasn’t hit that block yet (after they dump the garbage out of the bins, the lids stay open until you manually close them).

Soon enough, I saw a row of closed bins. I stopped the car, lifted the lid of one, and looked in. There was a little bit of trash at the bottom and since the lid was closed, as were the 3 bins at the houses nearby, I decided it hadn’t been picked up. I put the diaper in the bin, knowing since it’s garbage day, a truck would come around soon.

I hopped back in the car and continued on down the hill. I started noticing that a lot of the garbage cans had their lids open. I began to doubt that I made the right call. Maybe the truck had already come and just hadn’t hoisted it up high enough to get all the trash at the bottom out. And maybe the owner went out right after and closed his/her lid. And maybe the same thing happened to the 3 houses surrounding it. And maybe now, that diaper is going to sit in their trash for a week.

Does anyone have a solution for stinky garbage cans for the time between garbage day?

I’m sitting here obsessing about what to do. Do I drive back and root through the garbage and pull it out? The bins are huge so I don’t know if I could reach the bottom without putting the bin on its side. Then I would have to crawl in–as of now it’s already 97-degrees. This could get ugly fast. Should I buy a box of baking soda and dump it in their trash? Or Clorox? Or does that seem like a violation even though I’m doing it to remedy a situation? What if they see me? How would I explain myself? Maybe I just let it go and hope that this bad bit of karma doesn’t come back to bite me. Maybe I do something really nice for someone today to make up for it. Maybe I have too much time on my hands…

Three days ago I wrote about my latest obsession with the toxicity of plastic. My plan today was to channel some Zen and write about my new garden. Clearly I threw that idea out the window when I threw a bag of sh-t in my nearby neighbor’s garbage. Even if I didn’t mean for it to stay.

Who else has done something small, but significant, that looks stupid in retrospect? Anyone care to confess? If nothing else, to make me feel less like a crumb?

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How to Change a Diaper
How to Change a Diaper
How to Change a Diaper

Diaper pic via shutterstock

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Where’s The Poop?

Wednesday, March 7th, 2012

Okay, so I tackled the Diaper Rash update. Now onto Fia’s poop. Ever since her first one a few days ago, it’s gotten harder and harder for her to want to go. She hasn’t peed yet in the potty either. The last thing I want to do is pressure her, but I also don’t think we should give up at this point.

What’s happening is she wants to go, but is scared to go. She says, “I have to poop.” We tear off the diaper, put her on the potty, and after 10 seconds, she says, “All Done.”  Okay, we say. And let her put her diaper and pants back on–only to have the same scenario repeated over and over. It can go on for 30 minutes, at which point she gets upset with herself (I think), and starts to tantrum and cry about it. I tell her I don’t care if she poops in the potty. I tell her to put her diaper back on and forget about it. But I think she’s a little overachiever and doesn’t want to disappoint herself. So she cries even more. And then the whole thing gets stretched out for hours.

Eventually she does poop (after exhausting all of us) and we cheer, give her a cookie, etc.

Last night this routine began about 30 minutes before bedtime. Problem is, she never made the poop. We finally put her to bed 45 minutes late. Poopless in LA.

This morning, it started again. Now it’s late afternoon. She still says she has to poop, but hasn’t. She’s going to constipate herself. But more than that, I hate to see her put this pressure on herself. Especially because I don’t give a sh-t. No pun intended. I like diapers. I think they’re cute. I don’t care if she goes in them. But she was giving us the cues that she was ready to start potty training, so here we are. Poopless and frustrated.

Any advice?

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Milestone Monday: First Poop

Sunday, March 4th, 2012

Fia Looks At Her Poop

I took a picture of poop today. Now that’s a sentence I never imagined writing.

Cleo (my nanny) and I have been working on potty training Fia. Just very gradual and casual. We bought her Pull-Ups and we ask her to tell us before she goes. If she poops in the potty, she gets a cookie. So far she always tells us after the fact. And of course still wants the cookie. Thing is, you can tell when she’s about to go. She stands perfectly erect, lifts up her right heel, and gets this semi-blank look on her normally animated face. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was doing a ballet move. What can I say? She’s a graceful pooper.

“Fia, do you have to poop?” I always ask when I see the stance.

“No!” she always exclaims. Strongly and with passion, I might add.

“But baby, if you poop in the potty, you get a cookie!”

“NO POO-POOS,” she shouts.

Then one of us grabs her and runs her to the potty, knowing it’s probably too late. And usually it is.

However, yesterday we were eating lunch outside together and she had “the look.” We brought out the potty, stripped off her pants and Pull-Ups, and let her run around naked. We kept reminding her the potty was there. Cleo says not to put pressure on her or make a big deal about it until after mission is accomplished. I follow her lead. As she likes to say with everything from tantrums to teething: “It’s the same movie. I watch it over and over and over again.” Bless her. She’s like the mother I never had. And an amazing teacher.

But back to the poop: Fia would run around the yard, come back and sit on the potty, then get up and run again. We didn’t say anything. Finally on about her 6th time, she sat longer and made pushing sounds. We still didn’t say anything, as we didn’t want to make her self-conscious (hmmm…what’s there to be self conscious about? Pooping in public? With an audience? I can’t imagine…).

She stood up and announced, “I POOPED.” Oh did she ever. Without getting too graphic (I really like this blogging job) it was like a horse or a cow’s poo. Wow.

Cleo ordered me to go get the camera and take a picture. Huh? Whhaaattt? But I do as I’m told. (BTW–do you guys take a pic of the first poop? I’ve never heard of such a thing). I then took another one of Fia looking at her poop. Which is the picture I did post.

We all celebrated. Fia and I danced in the yard and she got 2 cookies. This morning as I was breastfeeding Em, she got “the look.” I told her to pull down her pj’s and sit on the potty. I couldn’t help her, as my hands were full. Instead, she pooped in her Pull-Ups and yelled, “NO POO-POOS!” And so it goes….

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Moving Mid-Pregnancy: 3-Day Potty Training?

Wednesday, December 14th, 2011

Author’s Note: Join me every Tuesday or Wednesday for “Moving Mid Pregnancy,” to read about my ongoing search for a new “everything” (from nannies to mom friends to health providers) while pregnant and living in a new city.

Since we now have a house, a yard and nice weather (to run around diaper-free) I was debating the whole potty training thing again. Ideally, before Baby Leroy (working title) comes onto the scene January 25th.

I’m all for a condensed method and a friend told me about the 3-day potty training. Who out there has tried this? With sleep training, it took less than 3 nights. I can be a stickler. And Fia catches on fast (she’s a girl, after all!). However, I don’t want to set myself–or more so Fia–up for failure.

My new pediatrician said you really have to gauge if the child is *ready*. Fia’s first sentence was “I pooped.” But that doesn’t mean she’s ready, does it? She says, “I pooped” all the time and 9 times out of 10, she hasn’t. I correct her, “No baby, you peed.” Her typical reply is either to stick to her story, ie: “I pooped” …or “I farted.” Silly girl.

She watches me go the bathroom and her little potty is there too, but so far it’s not like she’s taken much interest. I’m just not sure when to push and when to hold back. Any advice or insight? Is there a way to peak her interest in potty training first, then go in for the 3-day military-like method?

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I’m Having A…..

Thursday, August 25th, 2011

BOY. Working titles: Little Leroy.  Wayne Sanchez Junior. Baby Oops. Found out at 11 weeks when we got the CVS results back.

Fia Gets a Brother

Fia Gets a Brother

I knew from the moment I got pregnant that it was an XY. I am usually not one of those people with a second sense for this sort of thing. But somehow I just knew.

When the genetic counselor called to tell us that the chromosomes looked normal (whew), she asked if we wanted to know the sex. Yes!  I had rehearsed this moment for the past 2 days. I know she is going to say boy, but maybe just maybe, she’ll say girl.

Nope. My instincts were right. Boy. Oh boy.

If I’m being honest, there was a moment of disappointment, of mourning. Maybe it’s because I think we have a better chance of another great baby if it’s the same sex as Fia. Maybe it’s because I wanted her to have a sister. And maybe it’s because I am already so familiar with her.  Change is scary.

There’s also a nagging fear with a boy: the most modern of medicine still can’t test for Autism and the rates are so much higher with boys. My husband’s nephew is severely autistic, which I know adds to my worry. But I know there is nothing I can do about it, so just like this “unexpected” pregnancy, I am going with it. I have to. I’m grateful for the tests we could do. And if something is wrong, we’ll deal.

In the weeks since the CVS I have wrapped my head around “boy” much more. Boys love their mammas. They are big snugglers. And puberty will probably be easier to deal with.

But in the meantime, do I really have to look forward to a penis peeing on me when I change his diapers? That doesn’t sound like very much fun.

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