The house is a germy mess. The child is an even germier germ-generator (say that ten times fast) who makes germs faster than this mama can clean them up. The mama is quickly becoming germier herself, what with an increasingly sore throat, stuffy head and achy ears. The Dadoo is looking a little bit tired. Not grey yet, thank goodness, but certainly paler than days past.
The sick-in continues here at Chez-icky-yuck as we-the-family mark the thirteenth (count 'em, that's a one-three) day of the seige. Our defenses are battered, our noses are sore, our eyes are puffy. And this morning, the girl's eyes were sealed shut with more of the green gunk. It. is. so. fun. here.
Last night, however, was even better. Last night, we-the-parents had the joy of experiencing the return (ladies and gentlemen - hold on to your hats), of the violent poo. And by return, mama means the absolute explosion. Neither Dadoo nor mama could've foreseen such an incredible experience in our future. We naively thought that since our sweet girl is so much older now, those poos were a thing of the past. We, as last night proved, were very much mistaken.
The hero of this story is Dadoo, who thankfully noticed a not-so-subtle-hint of fragrance coming from the nursery nearly an hour and a half after the girl was in bed. We-the-parents thought we'd prepared for the worst, and yet, once again, were amazed to find ourselves woefully lacking in imagination. Suffice it to say that a complete bed and pillow change, a bath for baby and mama and new jammies were in order. Along with some bleach and a lot of Desitin.
The girl was unbelievably happy at being awakened from her deep slumber, and surprisingly not one bit upset that she was covered in ick and being quickly stripped of her warm (stinky) sleeper. She laughed her way through a bath, snuggled with Dadoo for a few minutes and cried for only half a minute when she was placed back into her crib. All in all, a fairly decent ending to a truly not-so-pleasant beginning.
Still, hope has not vanished here in the middle of the ickiness, and Mama believes that the days of wellness are coming, if not near. The sun is shining after all, and surely that's a sign.
Showing posts with label stinky-dirty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stinky-dirty. Show all posts
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday, August 23, 2007
. . . 8 secrets
1. Baby-sneaky actually can roll-over. Apparently pretty well, as her teachers at daycare inform babymama that they routinely put her down for naps on her tummy since she's such a good roller. Funny how she refuses to do that for babydaddy and mama . . .
2. Additionally, said baby is also more particular about people than babymama & daddy knew. We've recently discovered that our sweet baby girl determines fairly quickly who she likes and doesn't, and then decidedly makes her feelings known with a stern gaze, a frown and a concluding round of tears.
3. The above mention aside, baby-sweetheart really is a sweetheart. When we talk about her being a good, easy-going baby, we truly mean it. She rarely cries, and when she does, the tears are easily stopped by a meal, a new diaper or a hug. She goes to bed easily, and has only been sick once, and then only for a day. As parents, we occasionally feel guilty. But then we think better of it . . .
4. Since we're sharing secrets, Charlie and Lola is babymama's favorite cartoon, followed closely by My Friends Tigger & Pooh. Babydaddy prefers Handy Manny, and Baby-shouldn't-be-watching-TV loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Little Einsteins. (Rah, rah, rah for Rocket!) Our good intentions failed, and that previously cable-free baby now recognizes almost all the songs on the early morning round-up of Playhouse Disney, as well as Ahh and Ooh.
5. Baby-smells good had a bath yesterday. She did not, however, have one today. She'll probably have one tomorrow, but sometimes it's an extra day or so before she spends some quality time in the tub. In between baths, babymama and daddy wipe her down with baby wipes. She is not usually stinky, but sometimes is a little sticky.
6. She grows, says mama. So fast. No, really. Baby-growth-spurt outgrew all her clothes in a span of about 2 days. One day they fit her fine. The next day her little torso was too long for the snaps at the bottom of her onesies. Somehow, babymama did not anticipate this happening so quickly. And now poor baby is nearly naked. *Note to Grandmas across the country: please send pants, size 6-9 mths* Baby-tallest is 26 inches high.
7. In terms of heft, she's a perfect 7.71107029 kilograms. Since you're most likely one of these 3, that's an angel-sized 17 pound bundle of cuteness (give a couple ounces). Now before you start in with the 'what a big baby' comments, you need to be aware that: 1. Babymama doesn't play when it comes to disparaging remarks about her baby-adorable and 2. This is the average size of a normal 6 month old. Which brings us to number 8.
8. All of this . . . the baby stuff of this life, the diapers, the spit-up, the nights of little sleep, all the normal clichés that no longer seem like such, the aches and pains, the worry and uncertainty, the striving and learning and wondering, all of it - every little bit, is the best secret we've ever learned.
*Babymama is so tired. She will strive to add 6 blogs to her tag list tomorrow. Promise.*
2. Additionally, said baby is also more particular about people than babymama & daddy knew. We've recently discovered that our sweet baby girl determines fairly quickly who she likes and doesn't, and then decidedly makes her feelings known with a stern gaze, a frown and a concluding round of tears.
3. The above mention aside, baby-sweetheart really is a sweetheart. When we talk about her being a good, easy-going baby, we truly mean it. She rarely cries, and when she does, the tears are easily stopped by a meal, a new diaper or a hug. She goes to bed easily, and has only been sick once, and then only for a day. As parents, we occasionally feel guilty. But then we think better of it . . .
4. Since we're sharing secrets, Charlie and Lola is babymama's favorite cartoon, followed closely by My Friends Tigger & Pooh. Babydaddy prefers Handy Manny, and Baby-shouldn't-be-watching-TV loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Little Einsteins. (Rah, rah, rah for Rocket!) Our good intentions failed, and that previously cable-free baby now recognizes almost all the songs on the early morning round-up of Playhouse Disney, as well as Ahh and Ooh.
5. Baby-smells good had a bath yesterday. She did not, however, have one today. She'll probably have one tomorrow, but sometimes it's an extra day or so before she spends some quality time in the tub. In between baths, babymama and daddy wipe her down with baby wipes. She is not usually stinky, but sometimes is a little sticky.
6. She grows, says mama. So fast. No, really. Baby-growth-spurt outgrew all her clothes in a span of about 2 days. One day they fit her fine. The next day her little torso was too long for the snaps at the bottom of her onesies. Somehow, babymama did not anticipate this happening so quickly. And now poor baby is nearly naked. *Note to Grandmas across the country: please send pants, size 6-9 mths* Baby-tallest is 26 inches high.
7. In terms of heft, she's a perfect 7.71107029 kilograms. Since you're most likely one of these 3, that's an angel-sized 17 pound bundle of cuteness (give a couple ounces). Now before you start in with the 'what a big baby' comments, you need to be aware that: 1. Babymama doesn't play when it comes to disparaging remarks about her baby-adorable and 2. This is the average size of a normal 6 month old. Which brings us to number 8.
8. All of this . . . the baby stuff of this life, the diapers, the spit-up, the nights of little sleep, all the normal clichés that no longer seem like such, the aches and pains, the worry and uncertainty, the striving and learning and wondering, all of it - every little bit, is the best secret we've ever learned.
*Babymama is so tired. She will strive to add 6 blogs to her tag list tomorrow. Promise.*
Friday, May 25, 2007
. . . daycare & the violent poo
Babymama has been negligent in updating this blog over the past 2 weeks, but with good excuse. It was babymama's first week back at work and baby-adorable's first week at daycare. Baby-bravest did great, and babymama did pretty good, too, though managing the morning time is a daily task of herculean proportions. Babymama has decided that in order to really streamline the process, she needs a personal assistant, a part-time nanny, and a maid. Babydaddy disagrees, but mama feels certain she can win him over eventually.
The first day of anything is pretty important, and since 'you only get once chance to make a good first impression', babymama wanted to make sure that baby-stylish looked great for her big day. Averie's debut outfit was an adorable purple flower-print onesie with matching pants and purple socks. Mama even picked out a matching bib in reverse color print to coordinate and sort of tie the whole outfit together. Baby-cutest looked the cutest, and mama knew that she'd be the hippest looking baby in her class. Alas, her look was only to last for a few hours - the impending change of clothes would be necessitated by the emergence of the violent poo.
As new parents, babydaddy & mama receive a lot - A. LOT. - of advice and plenty of cautionary anecdotes from other parents on how to grow up baby-adorable. Everyone who shared a word or two from their own child-raisin' experience also warned us about the über-poo. 'Get ready', they cried. 'It's coming, and it's coming fast and furious', 'That stuff travels', and 'Just wait' are just a sampling of the phrases that fell from multiple tongues as we anxiously awaited the arrival of this legendary diaper surprise.
It took awhile to get here. In fact, it took a lot longer than we were told it would take. But it did arrive, and in what can only be described as a violently explosive manner. We like to call these events, 4-diaper changes, as that's usually the number of diapers it takes to get the whole mess cleaned up. They don't happen often . . . at least, until recently.
Baby-stinky-dirty broke her teachers in right-fast on her first day of 'school'. She didn't take her time warming up to them or letting them get to know her. She oh-so-sweetly and indescribably-adorably (like those modifiers?) smiled and cooed as her teacher held her for the first time, and then she demurely (at least babymama hopes this is the case) threw down the violent poo. Babymama knows this for sure because baby-poopie-bottom came home in a brand new outfit, borrowed from the daycare, even though mama put 3 extra outfits in her daycare bag.
As previously noted, the violent poo was once a rare occurrence. These days, however, it seems to happen more regularly. At least once every 2 days, baby-fashionable comes home in something other than what she was wearing when she left. Babymama is not sure if this is a result of the new activities in baby-stinky's routine or if those cute little Pampers are too small, but one thing's for sure: all that poopin' wears a girl out.
The first day of anything is pretty important, and since 'you only get once chance to make a good first impression', babymama wanted to make sure that baby-stylish looked great for her big day. Averie's debut outfit was an adorable purple flower-print onesie with matching pants and purple socks. Mama even picked out a matching bib in reverse color print to coordinate and sort of tie the whole outfit together. Baby-cutest looked the cutest, and mama knew that she'd be the hippest looking baby in her class. Alas, her look was only to last for a few hours - the impending change of clothes would be necessitated by the emergence of the violent poo.
As new parents, babydaddy & mama receive a lot - A. LOT. - of advice and plenty of cautionary anecdotes from other parents on how to grow up baby-adorable. Everyone who shared a word or two from their own child-raisin' experience also warned us about the über-poo. 'Get ready', they cried. 'It's coming, and it's coming fast and furious', 'That stuff travels', and 'Just wait' are just a sampling of the phrases that fell from multiple tongues as we anxiously awaited the arrival of this legendary diaper surprise.
It took awhile to get here. In fact, it took a lot longer than we were told it would take. But it did arrive, and in what can only be described as a violently explosive manner. We like to call these events, 4-diaper changes, as that's usually the number of diapers it takes to get the whole mess cleaned up. They don't happen often . . . at least, until recently.
Baby-stinky-dirty broke her teachers in right-fast on her first day of 'school'. She didn't take her time warming up to them or letting them get to know her. She oh-so-sweetly and indescribably-adorably (like those modifiers?) smiled and cooed as her teacher held her for the first time, and then she demurely (at least babymama hopes this is the case) threw down the violent poo. Babymama knows this for sure because baby-poopie-bottom came home in a brand new outfit, borrowed from the daycare, even though mama put 3 extra outfits in her daycare bag.
As previously noted, the violent poo was once a rare occurrence. These days, however, it seems to happen more regularly. At least once every 2 days, baby-fashionable comes home in something other than what she was wearing when she left. Babymama is not sure if this is a result of the new activities in baby-stinky's routine or if those cute little Pampers are too small, but one thing's for sure: all that poopin' wears a girl out.
See baby-new-clothes after her very first day of daycare. Also pictured is her favorite car toy, Ricky the monkey.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
. . . sticky fingers
It's been mentioned before, and on more than one occasion, but it's such a part of daily life with baby, that it's worth mentioning again.
Those little hands can hold more sticky, smelly gunk than anything else you could imagine. We are continually cleaning out her fists - and finding more and more of this gooey stuff in there every time.
Since we're new parents, babymama & daddy didn't know if this was the norm. We consulted a more experienced parent to find out that in fact, it is normal. At least it was for her baby, which makes us feel much better about the situation, and less like bad parents for allowing our child to become so stinky-dirty. (*Note: 'stinky-dirty' is a new vocabulary word that babymama learned soon after baby-adorable was born. It comes on the heels of other new words like 'fartie-poopie' - the "ie" is the feminine form, 'icky-smelly', 'sleepy-sweetie' and 'yucky-diapie').
Combatting this problem is sort of like shucking an oyster. First you pry the fingers open, then you scrape out the gooey stuff (which incidentally, baby eats raw), and then you wipe out the palms with soap, a baby-wipe or whatever cleaning agent (baby-friendly, of course) you have available. Usually, baby-fast-as-lightning gets those little fingers back into a ball and into her mouth before we've had the chance to dry them.
Brilliant babydaddy (pictured below, with baby-dry-hands) came up with the perfect solution for this dilemna.
Those little hands can hold more sticky, smelly gunk than anything else you could imagine. We are continually cleaning out her fists - and finding more and more of this gooey stuff in there every time.
Since we're new parents, babymama & daddy didn't know if this was the norm. We consulted a more experienced parent to find out that in fact, it is normal. At least it was for her baby, which makes us feel much better about the situation, and less like bad parents for allowing our child to become so stinky-dirty. (*Note: 'stinky-dirty' is a new vocabulary word that babymama learned soon after baby-adorable was born. It comes on the heels of other new words like 'fartie-poopie' - the "ie" is the feminine form, 'icky-smelly', 'sleepy-sweetie' and 'yucky-diapie').
Combatting this problem is sort of like shucking an oyster. First you pry the fingers open, then you scrape out the gooey stuff (which incidentally, baby eats raw), and then you wipe out the palms with soap, a baby-wipe or whatever cleaning agent (baby-friendly, of course) you have available. Usually, baby-fast-as-lightning gets those little fingers back into a ball and into her mouth before we've had the chance to dry them.
Brilliant babydaddy (pictured below, with baby-dry-hands) came up with the perfect solution for this dilemna.
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