You Don't ______ On Superman

Poop.

If that bothered you, you should skip this one.

A few months ago we tried cloth trainers rather than diapers for Silas. If you're a CD parent, I say "No wastea you money." Most can't catch a toddler poop if they tried. And the sizing is super weird - total lack of consistency across the "cloth trainer" area. Some (EcoPosh) fit his booty well, but were too loose around the legs (mess). Some (Blueberry) got too small super quick and we used the largest size they have. It's a total crap shoot (ha...ha ha OK I'm done).

And Pull-Ups? Fuggedaboutit, if your kid isn't ready to play the Let's Run to the Potty game, you are going to pay (and pay and pay) for those things...19 in a package, $7.99 ish per package...seriously? But we did them because school wouldn't do cloth trainers and Mason (Silas' BFF) was already wearing Pull-Ups so we can't be a baby and wear diapers can we? Noooooo (and thank god because the kid wore size 6 diapers for over a year and they ain't gonna fit for much longer and size 7s? Never seen 'em).

One day as Mommy shopped she saw Justice League underwear. 4T-5T. Hm. Silas had recently started asking about watching Superman and Batman (among other things) on TV, so I thought, "I wonder if this could work..." So I bought some Justice League undies for the Big Boy and stressed to him that we CAN NOT poop on Superman. We CAN NOT. He wore them around the house. He showed everyone who visited (which is just funny because the emblem [Superman, Batman, Green Lantnern, whomever] sits right by his penis...so here's my kid running up to our friends asking them essentially to...you got it...look at his crotch). We did OK at home. Not perfect, but what can you expect.

Super Undie Man running from water

Then one morning we were getting ready for school and I went to help him into a Pull Up. "No, unnerwear!" he cried. Uhhhhhh IIiiiiiii oooookkkkkkkk. So I told the nanny (Isella) the deal and suggested she put him in a Pull-Up as soon as possible. I picked him up and he was...wearing underwear. The same underwear. You've GOT to be kidding me. Isella told me he took off running to the potty whenever he needed to pee and he had not had a BM all day. Of course not. Because you don't poop in Superman until you get home apparently. Because as soon as we got home, there was Silas, apologizing to me and to Superman (come on, that was pretty funny). So he'll hold the pee, but still won't sit on the potty. *Sigh*

This has been a daily thing for almost a month. As long as he's in "unnerwear" he'll run to the potty to pee and hold everything else, I guess until he can't hold it anymore. And he doesn't want a Pull-Up. And he doesn't want to sit on the potty. Oye these children.

What foibles did you experience while potty training your kid(s)? C'mon, make me feel better...

We Be Trainin' - Bring on the Cloth Trainer Reviews

Silas is almost three and he's been all about the potty bit. At first he could have cared less, but something clicked and he was learning pretty quickly. He went from the kid who didn't care about a soiled diaper to the kid who refused a diaper ("Pull Up Mommy! No dipe!"). I'll be in the kitchen and he'll bolt past me, yelling, "Gotta go pee!" Ah! OK! Let's go! And now he'll just go on his own too - give him a Pull Up and elastic waist pants and he's in there on his own. It's pretty awesome. Now if I could just get him to do #2 on the potty. But he'll get there.

After he started demanding Pull Ups I started looking into cloth diaper trainers. Granted we use fewer Pull Ups but they're still expensive and they're still waste that I'd rather not create. So I asked aroud a bit and started getting some different trainers to try.

You may be wondering what a cloth trainer is. Well just like cloth diapers, there are different types (but fewer different types, no worries). Some are basically thicker underwear (so they'd be better for kiddos who have the whole pee thing down but just need a little extra help sometimes) and some actually have a waterproof layer like many cloth diapers so they're less likely to leak than type 1 but aren't absorbent enough to be a diaper really. Some have elastic sides for easy down/up while others are just like underwear (stretchy but not fully elastic sides). They run anywhere from $9ish to $30ish depending on the brand and the materials.

When I first started CDing I didn't know of any trainers on the market but now there are about 10 major CDing brands that have some and there are a couple of companies that focus specifically on trainers. There are also numerous WAHM-made (Work At Home Mom) trainers on Etsy and other places. I've looked around for some good review sites and haven't found many, so I figured I'd document my trials. One thing to keep in mind if you read my reviews - my son is tall and has a long rise (the measurement from below the belly button to the top of the butt). What may not work for him due to this may work for your child if they're not in the 98th percentile for everything like Silas is. I'll document the price, type, size we're using, and my observations. Hopefully these reviews will help other CDing families choose which types to try. If you have a suggestion for one I don't know of, email me! I love trying new types of diapers/trainers.

Merry Chris!

I woke up this morning to Silas, age 2, telling me, "Happy Chris Mama!" So to all our friends and family in blog land, "Happy Chris!"

Week In Review at The House

            Every week at The House there’s random shit that happens that just makes me (or Mike) laugh. Sometimes we laugh because we’re sleep deprived (and it’s really not that funny) but sometimes it’s just too hard not to laugh at the stupid stuff we do.

Big Boy Bed

Sleeping in the big boy bed, hope he doesn't fall off...

            Last Saturday Mike and Uncle Steven (Mike’s best friend) picked up a toddler bed for Silas (28 months). I found a good deal on it on Craigslist so we bought it after much debate (toddler vs. straight to twin bed). Being me, I worried that Silas would get out of bed every night (or worse [funnier], fall out of bed). When Mike and Steven brought it home, Silas and I went out to help them bring it in because I wanted Silas to be part of the transition from the get go. He went out to the truck and grabbed a side of the bed and “helped” them bring the bed into the house; he even went and opened the door to get it in the house when Steven asked him to. Big Helper, awesome! We put the bed in his room next to the crib, made the bed, and a few hours later it was nap time. He excitedly got up on his little bed to nap, and an hour later he emerged from his room (opening his own door). Rut-roh. If he can do that now, I thought, he can do that tonight or early tomorrow morning.

            We took the crib out of his room and moved the big boy bed to its spot, facing the same way. Mike and I made a big deal that night of him being a Big Boy and reminding him to stay in bed at night. He complied. The next morning? He was a ninja – he got out of bed and out of his room without me even waking up (and I’m a light sleeper – noises from the monitor always wake me up). I found him at 7:45 a.m. playing with trains and attempting to watch Thomas on the DVD player (which is also Mike’s Xbox – imagine the chaos if that were to have broken…hey wait, maybe that’s not a bad idea…hey Silas, come here…).

            He’s only fallen out twice so far. The second night I hear crying around 2:30 a.m. over the monitor and I go in to check on him. He’s sitting up, eyes closed, crying, “Momma…momma…” “What’s up buddy?” I ask. He grabs his blankets as if to come with me, and rolls headfirst off his bed onto the floor. Completely asleep. I pick him up and he’s still asleep. I lay him back down and cover him up, and that’s the end of that. But try not laughing at your asleep kid falling off his bed (it’s only a foot off the ground people, I’m not that horrible of a person). The second time he literally fell out in his sleep. He was asleep horizontally on the bed when I went to bed, but then an hour later there was a thump and some crying – tuck and roll buddy.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

My concrete thinker

            I have a bad habit of asking Silas questions that are really more theoretical than concrete and he, being, you know, TWO, takes them literally. Like the time I was trying to potty train him with Cheerios and I tossed a Cheerio into the toilet and told him to “Get it.” I meant pee on it. But he looked at me like I was crayzay, and when I told him to go ahead he reached into the toilet water and scooped out the Cheerio. Oh. I. Oh. Well. Nevermind. I was banned from Cheerio-ing. Today Silas was blowing raspberries at Steven and it sounded like it was getting out of hand so I called Silas to me. “Hey, what were you doing?” I asked him. Mike cringed. Silas blew a raspberry at me – glasses covered in spit. I had that coming. Hey Liz, remember how you tell your students that toddlers take everything literally and don’t understand insinuation or sarcasm or humor a lot of times? Yeah.

Two For the Price of Poo?

            A few months ago I was on the phone with my BFF, Missy, who has two daughters, ages almost 3 and 1. She told me she had to get off the phone because they had synchronized pooping and I just thought that was funny. “Just you wait, your boys will do it too. One poops and the other does and you have to deal with two diapers.” Well tonight Silas was “asleep” (i.e., futzing around in his room) and the Internet alarm went off, meaning he had pushed the button on the box. I went in his room and it stank to high holy hell. I asked if he pooped and he denied it. Mike came in and we turned on the light and changed his dipe. Mike went back to the living room, I cleaned the diaper and put it in the wet bag, and then I went back to say goodnight (again) to Silas. Sage started crying in the living room.

Sage not currently screaming.

Silas: Baby!

Me: Yes, Sage is crying.

Silas: Oh no!

Mike (in the living room): Oh god!

Me: I have to go.

Silas: Why?

Me: Your brother just pooped too. And apparently it’s a big mess.

Missy wasn’t lying. What the hell boys? Really?

            We’re also trying out the potty learning bit around here. Lots of naked buns time and random accidents. Asking Silas to use the potty is turning into a crying fight, so I’ve decided that he’ll be naked and I’ll remind him that the potty is there to pee in and we’ll see how it goes. Dino tattoos seem to be helping along in the process. Silas’ right arm is covered so far (with dinos in various stages of decay).

Did I Mention I’m Tired?

Sage and Momma

            Sage hasn’t been sleeping well at night, and you know us adults, we prefer to sleep at night, so I’m getting maybe 4 hours tops every night for the past three days. I’m tired. I’m cranky. Have you seen that “unnecessary censoring” of Sesame Street? The one where Elmo says “*&^% you baby!” Yeah, I feel like that some nights. Tonight I wanted a glass of wine and I couldn’t find my one wine glass (we have somehow broken the other three, no ideas). It wasn’t in the glasses cabinet. I asked Mike if he knew where it was, and I could hear the whine in my voice.

Mike: Did you look in the dishwasher?

Me: No. *Whine*

Mike: Well…why not?

Me: Because I just want to whine about the fact that I can’t find it for a minute. I’m sure it’s in there.

Steven: [to Mike] That’s why I love your wife – she’ll actually admit when she’s whining and that it’s for no reason.

I’m really ready to go back to work. I’m not a house wife or SAHM by any means, and I am well aware of that fact. I have the utmost respect for Mommas and Daddys who work at home – but I just could not do it all day every day. I need sleep, wine, adult interaction, and a night nanny and everything will be back to “normal.” I have a sneaking suspicion that my idea of “normal” is never to be again. But there will be a new normal I suppose.

            Honey, can you stop reading over my shoulder while I type? If you want to write for the blog go write your own damned post. Love you.

Thanks for reading! If you’re not already following us on Facebook, make sure to do so since there’s a lot more random funnies that get posted to the page every week.

-Liz

A Newborn Mom’s Manifesto

            Recently I was on a mom’s discussion board and a good friend who has a seven-week-old apologized for not shipping some stuff to other friends because she didn’t have time in the day. Everyone responded that she didn’t need to worry about it because they understood that she was busy and tired. Parents understand; I’m not sure that non-parents would get how hard day-to-day stuff can be.

Liz, Sage, and Silas

            If you’re a new reader to the blog, let me tell you a little about myself. I’m a 35-year-old psychology professor, doctoral student writing my dissertation, wife to Mike (who is also a student and works 19 hours per week), and Mom to Silas (27 months or 2 years and change as I say) and Sage (6 weeks old and born early at 35 weeks). During the regular academic year I teach six classes per semester (three face-to-face and three online), but during the summer I usually teach two online classes only from home, making me a 1/3 of the year stay at home mom. We’re usually a very “green” household and try to grow our own vegetables as much as possible. We cloth diaper (CD) both of our kidgets, so between the four of us and CD washing there’s daily laundry. With two dogs there’s a lot of vacuuming as well. And the dishes and cooking and the bottle washing…well you get it. Add in the sleep deprivation from having a newborn and it makes for some long days with the possibility of cranky people being cranky on each other.

            As I’ve read other bloggers’ posts on different things this week I started to think of a list of things that others (non-newborn parents) should understand about the newb household (ours especially). If you’re a parent, this list should look pretty familiar and probably will make you laugh as you think back about your experiences. If you’re not a parent (or not a parent yet), use this to understand exactly what’s going on with those friends that have newborns and you think have dropped off the face of the earth.

Sage sleeps...shhhh.

·      * Sleep is a fleeting visitor to my home (at least for me, sometimes for my husband, but thankfully not for Silas who sleeps through Sage’s hunger crying every night). We go to bed between 11:30 and 12 a.m. every night because Sage eats around 11:15 p.m. Some nights he sleeps until 4 a.m. before he wakes up for food again, but sometimes it’s 3 or earlier. Depending on what time he eats, he could wake up again around 6 or 7 for more food, and then he falls back asleep. Sage sleeps a lot right now, which is very helpful when you’re trying to coordinate two children’s schedules in the morning, but his schedule means that I’m getting two stretches of 3-4 hours of sleep per night (and most nights less than that). Sleep deprivation creeps up on you and eventually you sit on the couch feeding a child and wonder how you got there. Like literally, how you got on the couch with the child. Because your brain is so overwhelmed it stops making new memories.

·      * Sleep deprivation causes people to say some messed up stuff. So if I’m talking to you and there’s a long pause, it’s because I lost my train of thought and I’m trying to find it again. If I say something that sounds offensive, believe me, it’s not intended to be. The filter in the frontal lobe that says, “That sounds rude” is one of the first things to stop working when sleep deprivation sets in. Just ignore me.

·      * Days of the week are arbitrary really. I go on Facebook or get texts from friends and see “I can’t wait for the weekend!” and I’m thinking, “Wait, what day is it?” The only way I know what day it is is if a) I have an appointment that day (according to my iPhone calendar) or if b) Silas is home (and not at daycare). So calling me and asking me if I want to meet for XYZ on Tuesday doesn’t work. Say something like, “Two days from now” but also make sure I put it on my calendar. Otherwise I probably won’t show up.

·      * And if I do show up, I’m going to be late. Deal with it. I try not to be, so hopefully I won’t be too late, but you try coordinating dogs, babies, diaperbags, car seats, trains (Silas has to bring at least 4 with him wherever he goes), blankets, milk/formula to go, snacks (for Silas and for me), and you’ll see why I’m late. Even if I get to go somewhere by myself, like an outing to the grocery store, I’m still going to be late. Our Pediatrician’s office tells new parents that their first appointment is actually 30 minutes earlier than it actually is because they know you’re going to be late. I wish the rest of the world got that.

Showered and out in public! No way!

·      * One of the reasons I’m late is because I showered – you should be thankful for that. Showering at my house is not a daily occurrence (unless you’re my husband or Silas). I usually shower if I have to (I’m going out or someone’s coming over). Otherwise it may or may not happen. I do always put on deodorant though. That’s a plus. Unless I forget to because I’m overtired.

·      * Sure, you can come visit. There’s not ever really a “good time” (except 7-8:30 p.m. is bath/bed time so that’s a bad time). Bring ready to eat food if you want to eat because I don’t cook. And if you’re competent and enjoy babies, I may just ask you to watch Sage while I go take a shower or hand you a bottle to feed our Littlest Monkey. And be careful what you say around us. Mike and I have decided to never say no to some nutbag (I mean loving friend) who says, “I’ll watch the boys so you guys can…” We’re liable to run out of the house before you finish that statement. Am I joking? Mmm slightly.

·      * While you’re visiting, know that everyone here uses the rest room with the door open. If I don’t leave it open, there will be a toddler at the door, banging, crying “Momma! MOMMA!” until you pull your hair out, scream “I will be RIGHT OUT!,” or simply open the door for him. We’ve opted to just leave it open. Circumvents the whole process.

·     *  I miss adult human interaction and news from the outside world. You can only interact with a child whose favorite word is “No” (and recently, “No, now”) for so long before you feel the loss of IQ points. Even getting mail from people (as opposed to bills and junk) and email from friends (even if I don’t respond right away) make my day. It reminds me that there are other humans in the world who have a larger vocabulary than “Car gone! Thomas! Choo choo!”

Disaster creator at rest

·      * My house is a disaster (in my mind). We keep expectations real low around here (and we’re never disappointed!). There are Hot Wheels cars everywhere, baby contraptions (bouncer, swing, tummy time mat) all over the living room, and trains dribbled from the boys’ room to their bathroom to the playroom. There’s mud spots on my black couch along with Sharpie stains (black thankfully). Toddler activities are not always what we think they should be. And I don’t always have the energy or wherewithal to deal with them.

·    *   As far as eating goes, we try to cook. We really do. But I can’t help it if the Chinese food delivery guy knows Silas by his first name and Silas hugs him when he leaves. Don’t judge. At least we’re eating.

·      * And when we do eat, we use paper plates and sometimes even plastic eating utensils. The least number of dishes to wash, the better. But there are always sippy cups that need to be washed. I have been known to run the dishwasher full of sippy cups on the top shelf and some silverware on the bottom shelf. Having a newborn has definitely cut down on our environmentally friendliness.

·    *   I would love to hire a cleaning service. But I look around and think, “Would I need to pick up before they come over?” and that deters me from calling anyone. So I run the vacuum around and call it done. That little Dust Buster is my bestest friend when it comes to cleaning the tile floors.

·      * I have lots of stuff I intend to do. Like my friend that I started this post about, I have stuff I could ship to friends and thank you cards to write. But I have to say, if my options are “take a nap or…,” take a nap always wins.

·      * Grocery shopping for the week is a thing of the past until Sage can sit in the cart. If you don’t know why, take an infant car seat. Put it in the cart at the grocery store. See how much space you have left. It’s about enough for three days’ worth of groceries (maybe). Once he gets a little bigger I’ll be able to use my Beco or Ergo carrier with him so we won’t need the car seat in the store, but until then we shop on an as needed basis. As in, “Mike, we need milk for Silas and formula for Sage. Pick those up on your way home.”

·    *   I feel as if I wash cloth diapers every day. But that’s not true. I wash them on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays, but then I fold them on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Mondays, so there’s really only one day that I’m not doing something with diapers for the boys (besides putting them on them). And on Saturdays I catch up on clothing laundry and feel like I cannot catch a laundry break.

Blissful rest

Ah peace.

·     *  I have no life outside of this house pretty much. So don’t get offended if I don’t call you back right away or answer your texts. You may read this and think, “God, I’m never having kids,” and that would be a mistake. Regardless of how overwhelmed and tired I feel, these two little boys are my loves and my world. But like everyone, a short vacation wouldn’t be a bad thing. I’d miss them like crazy though.

Are you a new parent? What do you wish that others knew about your life and household so they could understand your seemingly quirky behaviors?

Thanks for reading,

-Liz (who’s off to fold towels)

The Babies in the NICU Go Beep Beep Beep

            After Sage was born the NICU nurses put him under the warmer and cleaned him up. Mike was able to hold him for a few minutes, I got to hold him for a few minutes, and then the NICU nurses took him down to the NICU. Mike went with him and I was left alone in my room again (well the doctor and nurses were cleaning up but they don’t count and my BFF headed home). When Mike came back he had the head nurse from the NICU with him. She talked to Mike rather than to both of us and even with all the meds I was on, I still recognized it and was frustrated.

Sage Orion born 6/16 at 35 weeks weighing 6 lbs and 3 oz

So Sage was having difficulty breathing, and it was as if his skin on his ribs was lying right on the ribs because he hadn’t plumped up. He was breathing rapidly and the amount of oxygen in his blood (his O2 saturation) was lower than 100% (and varied a lot). He also had a sacral dimple (where the skin on the spine may actually be fused to the spine – it looks like a dimple) directly above his anus. In a small percentage of cases that’s an indicator of spina bifida (but he had use of his legs so they weren’t worried about that) and they were going to do an ultrasound to make sure they weren’t fused. As she’s talking about all this I could feel my eyes welling up with tears. This is not fair, my brain said. This poor little boy.

“I want to see him.” I told her.

She looked down at my legs (which were now not functioning because the extra epi had kicked in RIGHT after he was born). “Well once you can walk you can come down to the NICU whenever you want to. Except between 6 and 8 we’re closed for shift change.”

I’m pretty sure she got the Eyebrows Raised You Can Go F Yourself look when she said I could come down once I could walk. “No, now,” I responded. “On my way to my room I would like to be wheeled down there so I could see him.” I looked down at my gurney. “If I can fit.” Research says he needs to be held and cuddled ASAP, my brain kept saying as if a record stuck in a groove.

Sage in his "house" 6/16

“Yes ma’am,” she nodded and left. She instructed the person driving my bus (or gurney) to stop in the NICU before going to my room. We wheeled through a few doors, down some halls, and we were in a large open room separated into smaller areas with curtains. Babies in isoletes (those little “house” beds with the covered holes on the sides) lived in each of the makeshift rooms. Some of the babies had signs with their names, stuffed animals, banners, and all sorts of decorations. Some were smaller than my hand. And all of them beeped.

Our NICU was set up so that each nurse had two babies to care for during their 12-hour shift. Amy was Sage’s first nurse friend right after he was born (and she was his nurse again on Saturday evening). She opened the arm holes on the isolete so that I could touch his face while she answered my deliriously tired questions (that I don’t remember the answers to at this point). I do remember that she said that I could come down and see him whenever I wanted (aside from shift change), and I told her I would be back when I woke up. Then they wheeled me up to my room. And I couldn’t sleep. Mike slept like crap on the pull out couch. Neither of us fell asleep until after 4 a.m. because we were too jacked up on adrenaline.

I woke up at 7 when my nurse came in to introduce herself and take my vitals (and offer me pain pills). She helped me get up and walk to the restroom and took out my catheter. Nutrition brought me breakfast and I ate like I hadn’t eaten in a day (oh hey, I hadn’t eaten since noon Friday). I wanted ice water very badly, so I got up (Mike was still sleeping) and walked slowly down to the nurse’s station. I was not about to lay in bed and call the nurses station for jack shit – I was getting up and walking so that I could walk my own happy ass down to the NICU whenever I wanted. I was not about to have any recovery time lapse or have to ask anyone to wheel me down there.

The nurse at the nurse’s station looked at my socks, which were yellow and had grippys on them – they put them on me right after I got my epi. “Are you ok?” she asked me. I glanced down at my socks. “Huh?” Apparently my socks had something to do with this conversation. “Yellow socks mean you’re a fall risk. You’re not supposed to walk around by yourself in yellow socks.” “But I am,” I responded. “Can I take the socks off then? I brought my own. And I want ice chips. Please.” She took out a blue pair of grippy socks and we changed my socks (and no I wasn’t allowed to wear my own). And then she got me some ice. Apparently the hospital can get in trouble if there’s some crazy lady in yellow socks walking around unassisted. Note to self. Never wear bright yellow socks to a hospital.

Kanga Mama

Mike got up and after I washed my face and brushed my teeth he wheeled me down to the NICU – I started off walking and then I decided that maybe, just maybe I’d like to sit thank you. Mona was Sage’s nurse that morning. She had 30 years NICU experience and answered any and all questions we had. First she told us we had to “gown and glove” (put on a plastic gown and gloves) until Sage’s MRSA test came back negative. Parents who were breast feeding or doing kangaroo care (half nakey parent with half nakey child on their chest) could not gown and glove though, so I told her to take him out of the isolete because I was going to get comfy and kick back kanga-style with my honey bunny. Mike went home to get Silas (who was going to stay with my BFF and her two littles for a bit since he couldn’t come down to the NICU with us) and to grab some stuff from the house for us. Mona, when she wasn’t working with her other babe or doing paperwork on her computer, was educating me about NICU life and preemies in general. I learned what each of his leads were for (heart beat, respiration, O2 sat, and temperature), how they fed him through his feeding tube (which went up his nose down to his belly and was teeny tiny), and why his IV was in his poor little head. Apparently they start with the top of the hand for the IV, but Sage said F that and ripped it out. Next spot is the bottom of the foot. Re-moved by my little fighting preemie. The next (and usually last) place they’ll stick the IV is in the scalp and that’s where they had to do his because he couldn’t reach it. He had a nasal canula for oxygen and he’d already ripped the canula and the feeding tube out more times than she could count, so she’d had to tape them to his face. Poor kid looked pretty Frankenstein-ish, but knowing what they were all for and how they helped him made me less anxious about all the wires and the beeping.

Daddy and the Beeping Baby

Oh the beeping. Each baby has four leads which beep. There were six isoletes in an area and there were at least 40 “rooms” (numbered on the ceiling), so there was a lot of beeping. And the beeping gets angry if the numbers (O2 sat or breaths especially) go below certain levels. Initially the angry beeping freaks you out, especially if you’ve watched medical drama shows (“OMG my kid’s coding!”), but that wasn’t the case at all. The machines can be set to get angry when the numbers go below a certain level, and usually Sage’s O2 sat would set it off. Eventually throughout Saturday (he was born early Saturday morning) it stabilized and he was able to have his canula removed Saturday night. Saturday after shift change I tried to feed him a bottle (rather than through the feeding tube) and he didn’t latch on to the bottle or the breast, which I was kind of bummed about. You can’t go home on a feeding tube dude, I wanted to tell him. Amy said she would keep trying at the next two feedings (the NICU puts them on a 2-5-8-11 feeding schedule).

Scalp IV came out Sunday at 8!

Sunday morning when I went down to the NICU Nick was his nurse, and he was awesome (not that all the nurses weren’t). Mike and I sat down there and talked to him for a good long while about all sorts of stuff. When it came to be 11 a.m., Nick handed me a nursette (little formula bottle with a disposable nipple), removed the feeding tube, and told me to feed him. My eyes teared up as he took the nipple in his little mouth and started to suck on it. Another milestone reached – that much closer to going home. Amy had apparently worked with him the night before to get him sucking. The MRSA test came back negative that afternoon, so we could hold Sage without gowning and gloving and turning into plastic heaters (if you’ve never worn those gowns…don’t…ugh they’re like saunas). Nick told us that we should definitely come back right after shift change because we’d be excited to see what happened. At 8:05 p.m. they removed the IV from his scalp – no more IV fluids for this boy. All the shit from around his face was gone – he was just a little boy with four little beeps (and chapped cheeks from where the tape had been). *Swoon*

On Monday I was discharged in the late afternoon. Sage’s nurses didn’t know if he’d go home Tuesday or Wednesday but they were pretty sure he was busting out of there soon. We spent Monday during the day holding and feeding him and relaxing in the room while he slept. It felt weird, like I should be doing something, almost like we were on some sort of vacation. Mike went home and got the portable DVD player and we watched Redbox movies between feedings and holdings. People brought me food (not that it was good food, but what can you expect). We rested because we knew that once he came home, it was on and there would be no off button.

Tuesday morning we woke up at home, excited about the prospect of bringing Sage home. We went to the hospital and Sage had been moved to Intermediate Care (IMC) which is for babies who need less support than NICU babies. One of the moms had been in the NICU for 3 months and was leaving that day. You could see she was both excited and nervous. Sage’s ultrasound (US) on his sacral dimple was scheduled for that morning, so after his pediatrician came by to check him out we went to US. His scans came back fine – no tethered skin to spine. Yes! (And we noted that his dimple was completely gone when he was five weeks born). The last hurdle for him to overcome before going home was the car seat test: he had to sit in his car seat (at least an hour after eating) and his beeps (which were set on ultra sensitive) couldn’t get angry or he’d fail and have to wait another 24 hours before they’d test him again. Rather than sit there on our hands and watch the clock, Mike and I went to Babies R Us and got the rest of what we needed (burp cloths, formula, etc.), hopeful that when we came back he’d have passed and be ready to go home. And…he passed!

Proud parents on Father's Day

Mike said that driving him home was the second scariest drive he’s ever done (the first was when he brought his first son home since he’d never driven with a newborn). Sage’s car seat was too big for him – we had to add extra padding just so that the straps would be taut. After adding chin padding to help his neck stay up and a preemie insert, he now fits in his car seat with no extra padding. But he hates those damned pads (called the Puppy Pals). Damn Puppy Pals make us cry every time (but then we fall asleep and forget about them).

Something to smile about!

We’ve been home for a little over five weeks now and our little preemie is a fighter, man. He got himself out of the NICU in four days, and is already trying to hold up his head. He’s amazing. He makes me proud every day. And big brother? He tolerates him. And helps sometimes. Mostly he ignores him because, well, Sage does still sleep a lot. While our NICU experience was not a typical one, I have to say that I give major support to families with babes in the NICU. And the staff are amazing. They made signs and decorations for Sage’s “room” and there are these volunteers (Threads of Love) who knit and sew blankets, hats, and booties preemie-sized out of the goodness of their hearts. And they’re the baby’s to keep. Every time I look at the airplane blanket (chosen by Amy because Silas loves airplanes and she thought it would help him to like Sage) and the knit green and white blanket we received, it makes me smile.

After a long post I’ll leave you with a cute song about the NICU written by a NICU dad. The “video” is just a picture with the song playing, but if you were ever a NICU parent “NICU at Night” will make you both smile and tear up.

Thanks for reading…

-Liz (and Mike and Silas and Sage)

A Dad Style End of the Year Letter

When I was a kid my Dad created an “end of the year letter” and sent it to his friends. It was more funny than informative really, and it always made me shake my head in embarrassment. But of course I was a teenager – what wasn’t embarrassing? So if the Wrights were to write an end of the year letter, what would go into it?

- This past year was kind of crazy living space and money-wise. Our house was foreclosed on in April and we moved to a bigger (and cheaper) rent house in March. When we first started living here we thought we’d buy the house in two years (when our credit looked better) but after almost a year of living here we’ve seen the house’s flaws. I think everyone should live in a house for a year before buying it. But now I have to wonder what we’ll do if they put the house back up for sale when our lease is up. I hate moving. With a passion.

- Silas turned one in April (and will turn two next April…crazy). Even with all of my knowledge and experience in child development, this child STILL amazes me every day. It’s like I have this growing sea monkey science project that continues to grow and is playing its own “Choose Your Own Adventure” that I have very little control over. My love for him amazes me. He amazes me. Every day he becomes more of his own little person and it’s so cool. He’s very stubborn (like nobody Mike and I know) and will not do an activity when asked (i.e., “Can you tell me what sound a cow makes?”). He’s not a perform on cue kid. So assessing his language skills is tough but then he hides behind the vacuum and says, “Where did he go?” (also known as let’s play hide and seek). And when this little person comes up to you and kisses you on the lips and walks away, or runs his fingertips over your cheek (tickle), it just makes you smile inside.

- Mike’s going to finish his Associates in Art in 2012 and hopefully go on to the Southwest School of Art BFA program in 2013. His skills at ceramics (which he took as a studio art non-major requirement – ha!) have improved so dramatically over the past year that I’m looking forward to what he learns/accomplishes in this next year. He’s finding his “art style” and is amazing when he sets down to accomplish a project. Now we just have to figure out what to do with these projects…

- The dogs continue to hate the child. Well, let me rephrase – Ivy randomly will allow him to pet her, but usually tries to get him to go away by showing him her teeth. Jasmine tries to protect him and/or runs away while he chases her. Silas chases Jasmine, laughing the whole time, or puts out his lip and cries when Ivy snaps at him. *Sigh* At least they didn’t revert to peeing in the house, that’s what I keep reminding myself of.

- I’m still finishing my Capella University Ph.D. I’m now “ABD” (all but dissertation) and am moving slowly toward gathering my data (studying the development of the environmentalist identity). I’ll get there. Then I’ll enroll in part time classes so I never have to pay back my student loans. But I never said that.

- My parents are still living in MA although there are talks of moving down here when Dad finally retires. My grandfather’s Alzheimer’s continues to progress which causes the whole family stress and emotional strife. I could never put myself in his position and understand what he’s experiencing.


Value every single minute with your family, even if you’re a teenager and find them not cool.

What were your highlights from the last year?

Love and happy end of 2011,
Liz

He’s Got the Moves Like Jagger

For the past few months I’ve been working (and feeling constantly behind), feeling like crud, being a horrible wife (it feels like), and observing this super amazing “baby” grow into a Little Boy. You’d think having an extra person (my father-in-law) around would be helpful but in fact it’s more work/frustration because he feels like Silas isn’t his son to parent so he’ll stand there while Silas wants more food (and be in my way when I come to help Silas). But whatever.

Since I’ve been MIA, I haven’t been sharing Little Boy Bites for the past few months. So Silas is 19 months (20 on the 26th) now, and I can understand why everyone says every age is their favorite (but for different reasons). Why does 19 months rock? Well you can see his personality/preferences developing very quickly. He dances by standing stationary and bouncing at the knees, or moving back and forth from his right to left leg. When he gets really excited he spins in circles, stamps his feet, and/or claps while grinning of course. LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem” is one of his current foot-stamping favorites. He’s also very interested in people whistling and thus Maroon 5’s “Move Like Jagger” is one of his favs too. While he can’t whistle yet, he loves to “sing” to himself in bed and one of his favorite songs to sing is “Ma” where he repeats “Ma” until the end where he raises his voice and sings “Maaaaa!!!!!!” Singing Ma also requires dancing (side to side only).

One of the most fabulous things about this age is that everything’s so cool. Airplanes. Buses. Lights. The Christmas tree (and all its ornaments). HotWheels and Matchbox cars elicit a “Wow!” when he gets a new one. And the “Wow” is very intense and intentionally formed – super awesome. He loves to lie on the floor and roll them and watch the wheels turn. Petting the dogs is now super cool (“Coo”) too – but sadly they run from him, especially Jasmine (the one he covets the most). And he’s started pouting when they run away – how can you not feel badly for a little boy that only wants to pet the puppy and The Dog Who Needs Klonapin runs away afraid for her life?

Speaking of pouting, emotional development is a big part of Silas’ life right now. Telling him “no” elicits lip quivering, as does raising your voice to get his attention to get him to stop quickly. Loud noises in general kind of freak him out and the lip starts. I tell him, “You’re ok! The X just scared you. Let’s take a deep breath and it’ll be ok.” He learned the other day what “accident” means and how we can respond with kissing a booboo when we have an accident. I never realized how hard it was to explain that to someone – it’s something you need to show (“Hey Mike, can you come kiss my booboo so Silas can see you?”). Once he saw it, he easily replicated it. And I love his kisses. He’ll come up and give me a hug while I’m sitting playing on the floor with him, and will push his lips to your lips if you ask for a kiss. It’s pretty cute.

He’s also learning how to get what he wants. He’s started doing the “come here” motion (with both hands at the same time which is pretty funny) and if that doesn’t work he’ll come take your hand and drag you to where he needs you to be. He’ll also bring you toys and hand them all to you then hug your leg until you sit and play with him. Every once in a while he’ll bring you the remote and dance and sing “Uhlihiah!” (“Olivia”). He loves that pig apparently. While language isn’t 100% his thing yet, he’s repeating things more, even just randomly (so guests beware, .25 per cuss word when he’s awake goes into The Jar – and I pick what cuss words are). I’ll be excited when his language is more consistent so he can tell me what he wants all the time.

Enough extolling my son’s virtues (but damn he’s cute). For the next few months I’ll be posting more Little Boy Bites, but I’ll also be talking about environmentalism research articles (thanks to my love-er-ly dissertation work), and throwing in a few reviews and giveaways here and there. If you have something you want to guest blog about, please email me!
-Liz

And I thought I was doing all right…

My son is 19 months old. He can feed himself, use some words, sleeps through the night, socializes well with other kids…I thought was doing pretty well. Then last week the nanny said something about starting to potty train boys at home and how she can’t start with him at her house until he learns at home. So Mike took it upon himself to at least try it out and get Silas used to the idea.

Grandpa and Mike built a little stool (his “pee stump”) and showed him how to use it to get up to the toilet. Yesterday Silas peed after a demo from Daddy and we were all excited. Today we were trying again and Mike said, “Be sure to hold his hands.” My brain said I needed to watch Silas’ hands so that he didn’t put his hands in his own pee. As Daddy demonstrated, Silas attempted to touch the stream and I was caught off guard. “Who would touch pee?!” I wondered. Well, my son, who doesn’t know not to. So first Mommy fail.

After waiting for a bit, there was no pee, so we put him in the tub and waited a few seconds (because he always pees as soon as he gets in), then took him out and put him in front of the toilet again. I threw a Cheerio into the toilet and said, “Get it!” Meaning “Pee on the Cheerio, make it sink.” Instead of doing so, my son looks at me, confused, and then reaches into the toilet to “get” the Cheerios. No no! Oh Criminy. Second Mommy fail.

I really need to watch what I say as my son is still thinking in a quite literal way. And I need to ask for clarification from Mike as apparently I have no idea how to potty train a little boy and what may go on in the process. I’m beginning to think that this is not my cup of tea and should best be left to Mike.

Gratitude Journals

Research in psychology has found that people who write a gratitude journal experience more positive experiences and more positive affect (mood) than people who don’t. Gratitude journaling can include writing for short periods during the day about what you’re thankful for, and obviously you can do this on paper, on a journal on your computer, or via a blog.

So what are you thankful for today? Take 10 minutes per day to sit and think about this and I can bet that you’ll be thankful for gratitude journaling :)

Me, what am I thankful for today?

1. My job. I love it. Where else could I sit around and talk to people about something I love (psychology and teaching)?

2. The fact that my son doesn’t have a stomach virus. My sister, her kids, and her husband all have it. I can’t imagine how worn down they all are and how terrible it is to see your 23-month-old being afraid of vomiting. I wish I could go down and help her more, but #1 and #3 keep me from doing so.

3. My son. He’s freaking amazing. And he was an amazing work of science – seven doctors all coming together to help me and Mike have an amazing and healthy little boy. He’s so sweet and fun and inquisitive. And he’s working hard on growing and developing (like his language skills). I love him so.

4. My husband. He’s patient (most of the time) with me and lets me do what I need to do (nap, grade, read), and I appreciate that wholeheartedly.

5. My parents. They’re super fantastic and supportive. I wish we all lived closer so they could hang with #3 more often. We’re trying to put together video chat this week. I hope they can get it working on their end!

6. My mama friends on Facebook (especially the Gen-Y B/S/T ladies). Without them I’d lose my sanity and feel completely disconnected from other mamas and that would be rough. Support is awesome, even if it’s in the form of online discussions!

Now it’s your turn. Go gratitude journal even just for a little while. Everyone’s thankful for something and someone. I bet there’s someone out there who is thankful for you.

A Long, Fun Day

Last October Mike and I took Silas and Kyle (Mike’s son) to Hamilton Pool Preserve in Dripping Springs, TX for a day trip of exploring and swimming.

We had such a fun time that we decided we would do it again at some point. Mike and I decided that we would do something this week because we didn’t get to do a lot as a family this summer, so we gathered our friend Steven, and Mike, Steven, Silas and I drove to Dripping Springs.

An hour and forty-five minute drive there, and Silas barely slept (even though it was nap time). He did take some cute naps with Uncle Steven though.

While we had to wait 45 minutes to get in, it was definitely worth it.

Silas has never been swimming. So we brought swim diapers and a swimsuit along with a shirt with sun protection (and a super cool hat). I wore my new Vibram Five Finger shoes and actually went in the water where fish live. You have to understand that after watching childhood friends get bitten by turtles and stung by jellyfish, I have avoided the ocean or anything resembling it since 4th grade. So to walk in the water and see a fish swim by and NOT get out was a big thing for me. But I don’t want to pass on my phobias to my littlest best friend, so I stuck it out (and had no problems, thank you).

He was tired, and that was to be expected. But he was so interested in all the people and the whole floating thing.

He clung to me (or Steven or Daddy) and floated around as we moved around the natural pool. He wasn’t so hot on floating on his back, but he would kick a little if we pulled him around in the water. He was very into sitting and chilling on your shoulder with his little snotty nose (poor punkin’).

We tried to get him to take a nap on a towel in the shade but he wasn’t having any of it.

Finally around 3:30 we packed up and left (only to have Silas fall asleep on my shoulder as we hiked out .25 miles of rocky terrain – and you all know how heavy a sleeping kiddo who already weighs 34 pounds gets).

We got some lunch/dinner at one of the new restaurants (or new since we were there last) and Silas had a little grilled cheese and fries, but everything went bad quickly and we left. And everyone slept on the way home (except Mike who drove). All in all, it was a good day. We’ll definitely be going again next summer (or maybe even later this year when it calms down over there).

My Little Boy Is 15 Months Today

Silas is 15 months today. It’s crazy how much he has changed in the last 15 months. We went from a newborn who slept all the time to a roller to a crawler to a walker to a toddler. Obviously this is how the whole process goes, but it’s amazing to think of the things that he can do now.

- He can walk well and even runs pretty well (his own version of running without bending his knees yet). We practice running around the house by playing Chase Me until he gets tired.

- Silas has learned to play well with the puppies. He’ll play Tug-O-War with Jasmine and he and Ivy have seemed to make peace, at least some times. He and Jasmine play chase but Ivy will still growl at him once in a while. But he has learned to pet Ivy’s belly which she appreciates.

- He’s moved into the “toddler throws a tantrum” stage of life and telling him “No” actually can be pretty entertaining (although we don’t do it just for fun). You say “No,” and this child gets on his hands and knees and (safely) gets himself flat on the floor and turns into a starfish, screaming.

- Words words words. There are lots of them. “Dipe” (diaper), “I-ee” (Ivy), “Jaja” (Jasmine), “Mo” (more), “bahh" (ball), “mine,” “soo” (shoe), “go” (usually with an exclamation to the dogs).

- He likes to watch Olivia the Pig on Nick Jr. He’ll even dance to the show’s song.

- He loves to dance in general. Any music with a beat he’ll bop to, and he’ll even bob his head in the car. If you don’t have any music on in the car he’ll bob his head until you put some music on.

- We’ve moved from two naps a day to just one at daycare. There’s no more evening napping which is ok because he now goes to bed earlier – dinner at 7, bath at 7:30, and bed at 8:15 (whereas previously it was bed at 9:30 or later).

- “Boo” is one of his favorite games – he hides somewhere and then I ask, “Where’s Silas?” and he slowly comes out and has this HUGE grin and cries, “Ooh!”

- Who pees in his closet? My kid. Twice already. And once in the doorway to his room. We need to get a lot faster at diapering him after his bath.

- This fruitcake is a climber. Already. He can get himself onto the couch, and even gets up on the outside coffee table (but knows not to try to get down by stepping, he waits for you to come over and catches a ride down). And he’s a daredevil. He’ll try climbing over the couch and stop himself before he gets too far.

- He loves to eat. My god he loves to eat. And he’ll eat almost anything you put in front of him. Raviolis and Chic-fil-A nuggets are some of his favorites right now. Ravioli face (who am I kidding, body) is hilarious and requires a quick bath.

- Mr. Bubble is his favorite bath time friend. Bubbles are very helpful when it’s ravioli time.

- Forward rolls. Headstands. We can do them all.

And this is just a sampling of what he can do. Crazy little boy. I love him so.