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Friday, March 16th, 2012
Author’s Note: Join me every Friday for a dose of cuteness as I share snapshots of Fia. Adorable photos are guaranteed on Fia Friday!
Fia fell and barely hit her head last night. But Phil indulged her anyway with a bandaid. I asked her this morning if we could take it off.
“No Mama. It makes it feel better.”
“Oh, okay,” I replied.
So there it stays.
She Can Look Really Pathetic Sometimes. As in Cute.
Post-Poop Cookie Reward
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Wednesday, March 14th, 2012
Capturing the First Smiles...
He smiled earlier this week. And this morning I got the biggest grin yet. My little man is melting my heart.
We are both definitely coming out of the fog. It’s been 8 weeks now and that means he is getting more alert each day. As am I. I actually went on a slow jog this weekend. It felt good.
The funny thing for me about baby #2 is how I forget to do the basics. With Fia I had a chart. It detailed her poops, pees, barf and bath. Emmett is lucky if I remember to bath him. Things like tummy time just often get forgotten. Last night I had him on for about 5 minutes and he seemed really excited about trying to roll over.
Our pediatrician had a great line for me I wanted to share. It might be the only thing I believe is true from a peds mouth (I wrote about my frustration with baby docs). He said you’ll be so focused on making sure your first-born doesn’t feel left out, that you’ll give her 80%. And for the rest of her life she’ll feel jipped for not having 100%. Your second born, on the other hand, will be eternally grateful for the 20% you manage to give him.
I had to laugh at that when I realized it had been almost a week since I bathed him. And yet, he seems perfectly happy and chill about it all. Maybe it’s just his temperament but he doesn’t seem like the wild child Fia was from the moment she came out.
My brother is super mellow. He ice climbs. As a profession (technically he’s called an Alpinist). If you haven’t heard of it, don’t worry. It’s insane to me. He lives in a shack in Colorado and travels to places like Patagonia and Pakistan to climb for months at a time.
I am the opposite. I like a good adventure, but I like my beautiful home, and all the comforts that go along with it. In other words, I don’t like roughing it anymore (unless I’m going to re-climb Mt Kilimanjaro).
Yet despite our differences, we’re incredibly close.
It will be fun to see how Fia and Em shape up in this world together. Smiling, I hope!
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bath, brother, doctors, Emmett, Fia, jog, jogging, newborn, newborn milestones, Pediatrician, pee, poop, pregnancy, pregnant, run, running, sister | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Newborn Care
Monday, March 12th, 2012
I may switch careers and become an OB/GYN. Because I think I just took Fia through labor and delivery. Last week I wrote about our impasse on the poop. She wants to “poop in the potty”–and has a few times–but then gets nervous about it. She went three days talking about poop and holding her hand on her butt without producing anything. We are trying not to pressure her, but it can’t feel good (or be good for you) to hold it in like that. On the third morning, as she continued to say, “No poop-poos” (which means the opposite), I took her for the 105th time to the toilet. This time I got down on my knees and told her to hug me and push really really hard. Which she did. Then, without any plop, she declared for the 106th time, “All done.”
Thing is, I could (and yes, this is going to get gross) smell it. So I turned her around and saw the poop descending out of her butt crack. I threw her back on the toilet and harkened back to being in labor. “Fia, I can see it! It’s coming! You have to keep pushing,” I shouted. (Of course in my labor with Fia, she never came out the hole and we had to C-section). “It’s coming,” she cried back. “Yes, it’s coming!” I reiterated, while looking back again into her butthole. The only word I didn’t use was “crowning” as I feared she’d go to preschool saying she crowned a poop. Then I’d have a lot of explaining to do.
So there we sat, Fia laboring her poop, me coaching her, until finally out came… tada: one little pebble. No f–king way. That’s like birthing the pinky finger and the rest of the baby is still in the canal. So once again, I turned her around and saw a bunch more. Thus, the coaching began in earnest until–out it came. Lots of it. She was so visibly relieved. I felt this bonding moment–like we birthed a baby together. In many ways we did. Just not one you want to keep.
We wiped her up, did the “happy poop dance” and put on a pull-up. She proceeded to poop 4 more times that day–in her diaper. Not that I cared. And for the past couple days it’s been hit or miss. But we’re getting there. I realize the sh-t is exhausting!
Potty Pic via Shutterstock
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birthing, c-section, crowning, delivery, labor, milestone monday, poop, potty training | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, Must Read
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.
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constipate, constipation, diaper, diaper rash, diapers, poop, poopless, potty training, pressure, tantrums, upset | Categories:
A Fi Grows in Brooklyn, Fearless Feisty Mama, Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, Must Read
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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