Poop: It's the Gift that Keeps on Giving

The day after Michael's half birthday, we started solid foods. I had mixed emotions about this because it not only meant my little baby boy was growing up, but it also meant that mealtime would be more about sitting around the table and less about sitting at the boob. This is especially helpful when we're out in public as he can eat like a big boy from a spoon.

Along with solid foods comes solid poop. This milestone also emphasizes the fact that the bigger Michael gets, the more his stomach and intestines can hold. This week he has made this point very clearly.

I sometimes will call my husband David at work and give him some superlative description of something Michael has done during the day:

"Michael babbled the most I've ever heard him!"
"Awww, Michael made the absolute cutest facial expression!"
"Poor Michael cried harder than he's ever cried in his life!"

Today's superlative was, "Michael had the poopiest diaper EVER!" And today as in days past, I wasn't crying wolf. There were times when I'd reported that exact same thing to David, and just when it seems like it couldn't be topped, it happens. Shit happens, that is.

Michael had been contently playing in his Exersaucer when I heard the telltale grunting and saw his face turn red. I figured I would let him stay upright and finish his business because I don't know if you have ever tried to poop while lying down, but I imagine it mustn't be that comfortable. Once he seemed finished and in his post-BM zen mood, I scooped him up and took him to the changing table.

I grab one wipe, and figure this one might be messy, so I grab a second one just in case. As soon as I removed his pants, I realize that I'm in deep.... errr..... trouble. It was at this moment that the poop became its own entity far bigger than his diaper or me, so I rushed into the bathroom to draw an impromptu bath leaving him on his changing table. Poop was absolutely everywhere, getting on his clothes, him, me, and his plastic changing table pad.

I thought I'd be smart and ready some clean clothes for him once his bath was finished to avoid him getting chilled any longer than necessary, but that plan backfired. Badly. As I was lifting a happy, naked, kicking baby from his changing table, the poop-covered pad stuck to his dimply butt cheeks, and fell over onto his unsoiled clothes.

I was incredibly relieved once Michael was in the bath and washed and rinsed his butt, back, and legs. Because we only have a wall-mounted shower head, I had to do my best to safely maneuver Michael under the bath faucet in order to make sure there was not the least amount of poop on him. He played on the floor in his towel while I bleached the big tub, disinfected his tub, and threw his and my clothes into the washing machine. Once it was all over with, I scrubbed down like a surgeon preparing for a big operation and heaved a sigh of relief.

So with input, comes output. LOTS of output. I know this blowout was the biggest I've yet to deal with, but I know the one that will be even bigger than this one is just around the corner.

Ah, motherhood!

Let's Talk Turkey: Babble, Babble, Babble

Michael had his first Thanksgiving this week, and it was quite an exhausting yet exciting time for us all.

After a typical tension-filled packing session in order to try to head for Katy at a reasonable hour, we finally piled into the car. Michael only napped for a half hour the entire drive, much to our disappointment. I wo-manned my post in the cramped back seat to try to keep him entertained and soothed and shared some hearty laughs with him late in the trip.

Since crying it out, we've had much success in getting him to sleep through the night, which has been wonderful for all of us. Of course, David and I had some concern over how Michael would sleep in a totally different but not completely unfamiliar house. We were hoping that he wouldn't disrupt the sleep of my mother-in-law who had committed to making our entire Thanksgiving feast herself. A sleep-deprived mother-in-law plus Thanksgiving stress would be a recipe for disaster.

Amazingly, he slept through both nights, and he was even able to go down for a few brief naps without using the boob to send him into his slumber. Hooray!

Michael was his observant self throughout the festivities as all of his relatives constantly oohed and aahed over him. A pink balloon brought big laughs with Aunt Kathy, and great-great aunts Kitty and Bunny were simply smitten with him. Over at Great Aunt Mary's and Great Uncle Ralph's, his presence brought smiles of delight to everyone. He watched his older cousins play, and I know that it won't be too long before he's running around with them.

After an action-packed couple of days filled with family and food, we anxiously made our way home. Michael was quite cranky prior to getting into the car, and we feared that this would be a horrible precursor to how the entire drive would be. Much to our surprise his demeanor completely changed once he was fastened into his seat. Once again, he only napped for 30 minutes, but after his nap, he conversed with me. It wasn't his typical vocal gymnastics conversation where he tests the octaves and volume of his voice, but it was filled with bilabial consonants. For at least an hour we talked about "mama" and "baba". It was as though he had been taking notes since birth and spilled forth all of his thoughts in his precious baby language.

David and I continued our dialogue with Michael well into the evening until it was bedtime. Just before he had his last feed, he uttered "mama" a few more times. Those are some of the sweetest words, even if they make no sense.

I'm learning that motherhood is rich with non-sensical sounding things that have so much meaning.

Our Cry It Out Experience

At Michael's 4-month appointment, the pedi asked how he was sleeping at night. I responded that most nights, my son wakes up at least once or twice to bed fed. He suggested that we may want to wean him from feeding at night because there is a window between 4-6 months of age where they start to develop habits even at night, and didn't want us to be burdened with the middle-of-the-night feedings for the long haul.

David was pushing for me to wean our son, and I still gave in to the feedings. Most nights I would bring him into bed with me to feed him and let him stay there until it was time to wake up. For the life of me, I did NOT want to do cry it out (CIO), especially in the middle of the night. I opposed CIO because I didn't want Michael to be distressed and less trusting in me/us, I didn't want to hear him cry, and I didn't want to lose precious sleep. So, David and I were seriously butting heads.

At Michael's 6-month appointment, once again the sleep issue was brought up. And again, we were strongly encouraged to wean Michael from the night feedings. David renewed his push to have Michael CIO in an effort to break his habit. I finally gave in since Michael wasn't doing this on his own.

On Thursday, we started the process. I nursed Michael to sleep like always, and he awoke right around midnight. I put on my noise-canceling headphones and cranked up the iTunes while David went in periodically to check on him and pat him. After an hour, Michael finally went to sleep. He awoke again at 3:00AM, and David was the one who went in to check on him every 15 minutes. I put in my ear plugs in order to avoid hearing the cries. It took another hour, but he finally went to sleep on his own.

Friday night, Michael woke up at 1:00 AM after being nursed to sleep as usual about 5 hours earlier. After 30 minutes of crying during which David dutifully checked in every 15 minutes, Michael dozed off. About an hour later, he awoke, this time on his belly. Michael HATES to sleep on his belly and protests loudly when he's ready to not be in that position even though he's fully capable of rolling over onto his back from his belly. David rolled him back over, and he cried himself to sleep after another 30 minutes.

Last night, bedtime was the same routine, and Michael awoke at 4:00AM. He cried for only 5 minutes and was silent until 8:30AM. David and I both woke up feeling refreshed, and Michael was found on his belly in his crib playing with one of his toys. There is no telling how long he'd been in that position.

I hope this trend continues. If so, then thank you David, thank you ear plugs, and thank you noise-canceling headphones for getting me through the first two nights.

Now, if only I could get him to nap on his own. Baby steps. Baby steps.

Ashley