Potty-Training.
Still no pooping in the toilet. James has pooped just about everywhere but the toilet. My daycare provider has been working with him, I have been working with him, but the kid will dance around and hold it until the urge must, obviously, go away. He has pooped in his pants while crouching down for something, and in the bath, both situations catching him by surprise. So that's how, I think, we'll have to trick him into it. Both times, I wasn't "around" (just in the other room) to catch it in time. UGH! But like I said, we're working on it.
In all, peeing has been great. James still celebrates like it's his first time, but the kid is easily excitable. He pees standing up in front of his small toilet, sitting down on his small toilet, standing on a step stool in front of the big toilet, or sitting backward on the big toilet. He takes great pleasure in aiming his pee everywhere he can in the bowl, oftentimes making swirls or zig zags. It's pretty funny to watch.
But no poop. Since he holds it, we put him in a diaper for naps, although we didn't start off doing that. After getting sick and having a series of accidents during nap, I put the diaper back on. He often wakes up dry, and sometimes even wakes up having pooped (how does someone poop in their sleep??), but I feel better that it's there, just in case.
Breastfeeding
I cannot believe that I have made it this long breastfeeding. But it's been a fight. More often than not, I feel like I'm not producing enough milk. And then, all of a sudden, Catherine seems like she's satisfied. The anxiety that I have gone through in regard to breastfeeding is enough to last a life time, but I am so glad that I am still going. It's been so worth it.
When Catherine was about 5 months old, we introduced solids, and that put us on an awesome schedule... at home. At daycare, it was a different story. After sitting down with my daycare provider, we finally figured out she was giving Catherine waaaay too much breast milk, which didn't coincide with the schedule we were smoothly sailing through here at home. For about two months, her schedule has been:
6:30 a.m. Nurse
8:30 a.m. Solids
9:00 a.m. Nap
11:00 a.m. Nurse
12:30 p.m. Solids
1:00 p.m. Nap
3:00 p.m. Nurse
5:00 p.m. Solids
6:00 p.m. Nurse/Bedtime
9:30 p.m. Dream feed
And then she sleeps for 12 hours (unless she's screaming, then NO ONE sleeps. Except James... that kid can sleep through anything).
So Christy and I figured out that instead of giving Catherine solids at 8:30 a.m., because Christy transports and has her in a car, where she easily falls asleep, Christy gives Catherine breast milk at 10:00, when Catherine wakes from her first morning nap. Then Christy gives her solids for lunch, about noon, and then more breast milk at 1:00. So Catherine's schedule was flip-flopped, which meant I was unable to pump what Christy was giving her. Thankfully, we were able to sit down and figure it out, which took all the stress and anxiety about not being able to produce enough, away. And since then, it's been glorious. I am so thankful for a daycare provider who strives to understand rather than boss me around and tell me what to do as a parent!
So, there you have it. I nurse 4 times a day, giving Catherine about 28 ounces, plus 3 ounces of food each feeding, which is about 12 ounces per day. And from here, we just up the ounces of food. Since I've made it this long, a lot of people are asking how long I think I'll go. I keep saying a year, because after that, it gets weird. But now that I know her birthday is less than 5 months away, I wonder if I will really make it a year. And when I say a year, I mean, quit at 11 months and then use my freezer stash until that runs out, then start her on whole milk. But I wonder if I will actually go up to a year, and then quit? I'm not sure. I try not to think about it, because truly, my most favorite part of any day is when I creep into her room at 9:30 p.m., gently rouse my little princess, and have her dream feed.I know a lot of people nurse for as long as possible because they want to avoid the dreaded return of their period... which brings me to The Return of Mother Nature.
The Return of Mother Nature
As I write this, we are waiting for the first snow of the New Year. But that's not what I'm talking about.
Oh, no. As I was recuperating from my night celebrating the eve of 2015, a night full of Lilo and Stitch (I hate those movies!) and a constipated 7.5 month old, I felt like I had partied circa 1999 New Year's Eve where I didn't even make it until midnight. Why yes, that New Year's Eve I was in bed before my parents.
Nope. I was in shock. Because my period returned. WHAT?
Christmas was not necessarily a nightmare, but I felt like I was in a high-stress situation at all times. Catherine was not having the pack-n-play, or really, anything about Christmas, and whenever she cries for long periods of time, my anxiety flies through the roof. It sucks. So I always felt like I was on edge.
During the day on New Years Eve, I tried nursing Catherine, but my milk would not let down. It was so frustrating and took a good 5 minutes for my milk to finally release. I remember getting so frustrated, right along with Catherine. And then, I was terrified, because I thought I was losing my supply. Again. For the billionth time this month. But no, apparently, that is what can happen with the onset of your period. Which came the next day.
Happy 2015 to me!
I forgot what it was like to have my period, and I especially was not anticipating it's "triumphant" return so soon. Neither was my husband, judging by the disappointed look on his face. But in the back of my mind, I knew it was bound to happen. I just didn't know it was going to be 7.5 months post-partum.
But the biggest thing I underestimated about it's return, was the horrible way I felt. Not to mention, I have always been able to stave off the cramps and bloating with Midol, or some other miracle drug. Nope, not this time. The pain was horrible. It's subsiding, here on Day 3, but it's still there. And beyond that, my boobs hurt the most. Not my uterus, which felt like a basketball with spikes on it, sitting in my gut, and every time I would move it would dig in a little more. Nope. My boobs, which felt like they were pulsing with pain. I swear, I could look down at myself and literally see them move with every heart beat. They hurt. so. bad. What the hell was that all about? Then, when my milk came in when it was time to feed Catherine? Holy hell. Call an ambulance. I remember having to breath through the cramps that happened when I first started breast feeding in the hospital, at one point having to hand off Catherine to concentrate on breathing through them while the nurse said, "Yeah, the cramps are way worse with the second kid." Nope, these were way worse. Not to mention, on top of all that, I just felt like shit. Tired, lethargic, and desperately wanting to find a way to occupy my children with some electronic so I could catch a few hours of sleep (haha, yeah right, like that would EVER happen).
Advil does't recommend taking more than 6 pills in a 24 hour period. But Advil isn't a breastfeeding woman, 7.5 months post-partum. I absolutely took 12 pills in a 24 hour period, and that still didn't help. What's even more awesome is that, being the good wife I am, I told Eric I would take the kids yesterday so he could watch his bowl games. What a mistake. Sometimes, I wish I could call in sick to parenting. Oh well, we're on the mend. Hopefully. Only now, I know this bitch will be back in less than a month, and I'm not looking forward to it. At all. I wonder if they make anything stronger than Advil? Maybe Vodka?
So there you have it. My life, in a nutshell. It did not contain any stories of debauchery. No shenanigans of any type. And that's exactly the way I want it.
God bless this life. Poop, boobs, and periods included.
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