Poop, It Happens at 5AM

Note:  If talk of poop, baby poop, color & texture of poop & the act of babies pooping grosses you out, then FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS CUTE CHUBBY & ROUND (like me) don't read any further!  Or is that farther?  Meh, who cares?  You can just stop here.

I love my daughter.  Everything about her. She is cute, cuddly and finally happier!  We've gotten past those days of pesky gas & colic.  Well, the formula change gets the credit there.  But she is pleasant again!  Like the first few days after she was born, only better now because she smiles, laughs and plays back.

Not only has the formula change made her a much happier camper, it also corrected her constipation troubles.  When the pediatrician told me, "I've never seen a baby on this formula with anything other than soft stools" I was a bit skeptical.  And this is why I'm not a pediatrician with my own practice.  In the height of her colic/gas & constipation her poop was kinda light greenish and super firm.  After the change over to Nutramigen it usually looks like scrambled eggs in her diaper.  That is the best way I can describe it.  If I ruined you fondness for eggs, I'm not sorry because I really can't eat them cause they make me doubled over in pain.  If I can't have them, then you should at least have to think of poop when you have them!

OK, now to be completely graphic & gross.  If you see her actually doing the deed, which it's happened a few times, this poop is best described as juicy.  Did I do it again?  Ruin something else this time?  Sorry.  :p  Since the absorbency of the diaper just zaps up the liquid, it leaves just the eggy stuff behind.  She is very explosive & generous with the quantity.  The girl still has wicked gas, just not the "I'll scream until you shoot your face off with a bazooka to stop your ears from bleeding" kind.  So to review, Little C's poops are large, loud, explosive, juicy then eggy.

Fast forward to 5am Thursday morning.  I am so tired.  K already left for work at 4am.  Little C is fussing and rolling all over her pack & play bassinet.  I peel my eyeballs open and sit on the edge of the bed blinking furiously to try to get them to work.  They hurt too.  But only when they are open.  I stand up & sit right back down because, well, I kinda fell back down, but whatev.  I stand up again, slower this time and make my way to the dresser where I stash some bottles, water & formula.  I mix her up a 6 ouncer and pick the cuteness that is my Little C up and go sit on the bed with her and she drinks.

Her beautiful little eyes look up at me while she drinks and they flutter a little bit.  As tired as I am, I wouldn't ever give up those moments of *girl talk* we share in the wee hours of morning.  I burp her, kiss her, snuggle her...man I love this mommy gig.  I then lay her down to change her.  We play "stinky feet" and I strip her diaper off & wipe her down with a wipe.  I have her cute little ankles in my hand and as I'm lifting her up to slip the fresh clean diaper under her, she sneezes.  She has the cutest sneezes by the way.  Her sneeze was so forceful though that it also caused her to fart at the same time.  I wouldn't know anything about that ::side eyes:: but I'm sure its happened to you too.  Apparently the sneeze was so forceful it not only cause her to fart, but to also shoot a pile of juicy poop out onto my bed.  She looked up at me and smiled.  A huge, cheesy, gummy grin.  Then squirted out more while I just sat there holding her feet & looking on in horror.

I froze.  Then I almost cried because it was 5am.  Then I just laughed.  So hard I nearly woke up Big C.  I'm not sure if I just temporarily lost my marbles, or if it was that grin on her face when she let loose the second half, or of it was the sneeze, then fart then explosion, but I just couldn't help myself.  I didn't really feel like stripping the bed at 5am, but this kid is so darn cute, the laugh was worth it.  It may sound silly too, but I thought I would have gotten mad, not at her, but at myself for not being more careful.  And I didn't!  Which is progress for me on the PPD front.

I cleaned up my snuggle bunny, wrapped her up in a snuggly swaddler and put her back to bed, then proceeded to clean up the mess.  By the way, the Oxyclean stain spay...AHHHmazing!  My mattress looks like nothing ever happened!  Anywho, I think I can say that motherhood has made me insane.  And ya know, I kinda like it. ;)  What disaster has your little one done that made you laugh instead of cry when you clearly could have?

Who's Birthday Is It? & The Cheesecake Cookie

So y'all probably don't know that it was K's birthday yesterday.  He turned 36.  I wanted to plan something nice for him.  But you know, the best of intentions sometimes fail.

K and I are not wealthy in any sense of the word.  We are about as average as you can get.  We have made sacrifices so that I can be a SAHM.  That means we pretty much live paycheck to paycheck.  And that is OK with us.  It isn't like our family has to go without, we just go without the *extras* when it comes to certain things.  Since Little C has been on Nutramigen, things have gotten a bit more tight in the finances department.  She goes through 3 of those big cans of powder every 2 weeks.  At 33 bucks a can plus tax, it is a little over $100.00 every 2 weeks just for her formula.  K gets paid twice a month.  So things get to be a little tight right around payday.  So planning a dinner out, or movies or anything like that was out until Friday.

I take birthdays very seriously.  I mean come on, it is a celebration of the day you were born.  I know how excited I was when my babies were born.  Those were the best days of my life!  So I have to do something on the actual day.  It just so happens that K prefers pie over cake.  So I thought about making him one of his favorite pies.  Then I remembered I used up all but a smattering of the flour when I baked bread last week.  Darn.  I thought about running out and picking some up, but I had an emergency dental appointment looming that afternoon to fix a chipped tooth.  Darn again.

I looked around the kitchen.  Rummaged through the pantry and grabbed the graham cracker crumbs.  Hmm.  The only think K likes as much as pie is cheesecake.  Checked the fridge and there was still cream cheese left from the 6 pack I bought a few weeks ago when I made carrot cream cheese muffins & marble brownies.  Score!  I moved things around looking for it but it was just the one package.  Darn...a third time.  Well...I could half the recipe and everything would be OK.  It would be a small cheesecake, but a cheesecake nonetheless!

Happily, I made my crust and then I realized the smallest pan I had was an 8.5" springform.  You have to be kidding me.  I could have sworn I had a smaller one.  Well crap.  My dental appointment time was creeping up on me.  So I decided in the words of Tim Gunn on Project Runway to "Make it work."  I baked my crust, threw in my filling, popped it in the oven and ran to get ready for my appointment.  Twenty-five minutes later I pulled it out.  It looked beautiful!  I was so excited because it didn't even crack!  Tossing it in the fridge I raced out the door to the car and zoomed off to get this chipped tooth fixed.

After getting home from the dentist, I found K feeding Big C dinner.  I hugged & kissed him, wished him a happy birthday for the 3rd time and ran back to get Little C a bottle and feed her.  It is almost time to put the kids to bed so I head out to the kitchen to get K's cake, sing happy birthday and give cards/gifts.  Big C is sitting with my dad in the living room and I yell out to him, "Come on Dad, it's time to sing 'Happy Birthday'."  To which he answers, "Singing it to who?"  Uh, how long have K & I been married?  You'd think my dad would know his birthday by now.  J gets the fridge door for me and I whip out the cheesecake.  TA DA!!!  K smiles broadly.  After setting it in front of him I flip the spring on the pan and take off the sides and look in horror.

J looks at me and says, "What the heck happened to the cheesecake?"  I almost burst into tears.  Even though the cake was fine, because I didn't have a pan that was smaller in diameter than the 8.5" spring form, my cheese cake looked more like a cookie.  With my lip quivering slightly, I recounted my earlier adventure trying to get everything together to make something.  J laughed.  K laughed.  I felt bad for a few minutes.  Then I laughed too.  Seriously, it was hilarious.  It looked so funny.  However it tasted fabulous!

Not the sharpest picture, but you can see, clearly a Giant. Cheesecake. Cookie.

Later, when K & I climbed into bed, we fell asleep laughing.  Between my dad asking who we were singing to & the cookie that was really a cheesecake, he told me it would be a birthday he would never forget.  Mission accomplished!

Telemarketers - They Have To Eat Too

Sure they do.  But why do they have to call ME?  Specifically, why must they call me during preparation of dinner, eating of said dinner, during the high point of a favorite movie or show and when I'm on my deathbed with the flu and just trying to get some rest?

Before the illustrious Do Not Call List, these people were unavoidable.  So here is a little story about how I got rid of them, or at least one of them.

It was several years ago and I was sick as a dog with the flu.  I mean it was going on 5 weeks and I just could not shake it.  The throwing up and all the lovely projectile functions that come along with it were long gone.  I was just tired and achy to the nth degree.  All day I had just wanted to lay down and get some rest.  After taking care of a litter of puppies I had, doing dishes laundry etc, I headed to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

You know that point when you just begin to drift off to sleep?  Where you feel all warm and fuzzy and so.perfectly.comfortable?  I was there.  And it felt amazing.  I was going to really fall asleep this time. And then...
Riiiiiiiing

I answered with a very groggy, "Hello?"

"Good afternoon ma'am, is Mr. JH there?"  A call for my brother.  Dammit.  He was farting around outside and I was too tired to move to go get him. "No, he is unavailable at the moment, can I take a message?"  Silence.  "No ma'am, I'm calling from N________ with a offer he might be interested in, I can call back later."  I was polite, told him alright and goodbye then hung up the phone and laid back down.  Now, where was I?  Oh yes...sleep.  Again I had made it to that soft fluffy pre-sleep place when...
Riiiiiiiing

You gotta be kidding me.  I grumbled as I made my way to the phone, this time I answered more sharply, "Hello?"

"Good afternoon ma'am, is Mr. JH there?"  Another call for J.  Sonofa...."No he isn't.  Can I take a message?"  He was still outside because HELLO it had only been like 5 minutes since the last call!  "Oh that won't be necessary.  I'm calling from B_______ with an offer he might be interested in.  I can call back another time."  I sighed heavily into the phone, but remained polite.  Then proceeded to drag my flu-ridden carcass back to the bed.  I thought about leaving the phone off the hook, but what if someone called with an emergency?  No, can't do that.  Sleep, yes, that's what I'm after.  After about 10 minutes I finally slip into a much needed slumber when...

Riiiiiiiing

Alright, that's it.  Now I've flipping had it.  I was about to rip the phone out of the wall, but instead I answered it, literally yelling into the receiver.  I didn't care who it was at this point, dammit I didn't feel good & I wanted sleep!  
"HELLO?!"


This time the greeter answered a little differently.  "Good afternoon!  I'm calling from P_________ and I've a special offer for Mr. JH...is he available?"  I felt my blood beginning to boil.  This is effing ridiculous.  WTF?  Do I have to die in order to get some peace around here? Die.  Now there's an idea!

"No he isn't available" I snapped.  "He died!"

Silence.

"Oh I am so sorry...I...oh...I umm..uh...I'm so sorry to bother you."  To which I hastily replied, "Thank you.  Now would you people please stop calling our home?  This is the 3rd time in the last 20 minutes that someone has called here.  I'm sick, I'm grieving and I just want to be left alone!"

After stammering and apologizing profusely again, he hung up.  I dragged myself back to my bed and laid down....again.  This time I waited before closing my eyes.  And the ring did not come this time.  Phew.

Six days later I was feeling much better and sitting at the kitchen table when J came in with the mail.  He set it down on the table and I flipped through it pulling my stuff out.  I didn't tell him about the phone incident.  Frankly, I had completely forgotten about it after I woke up from sleeping that day.  As I was glancing through the mail, J spoke up in disbelief.

"What the hell?" I looked at him and asked, "What is it?"

"It's a letter from P_________ saying the are very sorry to hear about the passing of Mr. JH and that his family has their deepest condolences.  They have canceled my account and...THEY CANCELED MY ACCOUNT?  WHAT THE...?"

I said at the table wide-eyed.  OMG...I had completely forgotten.  And before I thought better of it I let out an "Oops."

He looked at me....raging pissed.  Asking me what I meant by "Oops."  So I explained to him what happened, that I was sick and I wasn't thinking straight!  Yeah, J was really, really angry with me.  He called the company and they said the account had been closed because he was dead.  To which J promptly yelled, "How the hell can I be dead if I'm talking to you?"

They refused to reopen that account.  He would have to open a new one.  Which didn't have the kind of credit limit the old one had.

Oops!