It's official: I've let myself go

As much as I would like to blame this all on my poor innocent daughter--and she definitely had something to do with that extra 50 lbs. I gained last Spring--the truth is that I've let myself go for quite a long time now. Let's face it. I hang out with dogs. Day in and day out instead of getting up and putting on makeup and nice clothes, I throw a sweatshirt over my pajamas and sit on the couch with my laptop. Within five seconds there's at least one dog draped across my lap. It's usually John.

John really doesn't care if my hair is in a pony tail or if I took a shower that morning. He loves me anyway. In fact, the stinkier I get the more John loves me. He lives for the day when I go crazy and roll around in three day old liver before coming to bed.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), the rest of the world does not share John's complete disregard for personal hygiene. And they do not consider a padded lap to be a positive feature. So in the interest of conforming to the rest of our shallow society I have made a decision. No, I'm not having plastic surgery. As if. I am, however, going to try to do something with my hair. Besides brushing it. Every day. This is a major commitment on my part. We'll see how long it lasts.

Thanks for not sending me porno . . .

Thanks for not sending me porno from my own account and I promise to be more careful in the future. :-)

I need to sign out of other people's websites

I love to play on the computer. And I love to play with my daughter. Sometimes, I forget I'm doing one and I get distracted by the other. And sometimes, I do this at other peoples' houses. Sometimes, I forget to log out. And sometimes my friends post messages pretending to be me. That might be happening right now. And my friends, sometimes, forget (ha!) to tell me they did this. And are wondering how long it will take before anyone notices...

hmmmmm.....

Mulit-Tasking

This morning I had two brain cells left. I was finishing an assignment from a client, talking on the phone with a friend (who was simultaneously IM'ing me pictures), yelling at the dogs, and holding my daughter while she sat on the potty (on the couch between me and the laptop). The two brain cells that weren't engaged in any of these activities noticed that the baby was trying to play with the computer with one hand, pet the little dog with the other, and grunt out a poopie all at the same time. As I was impressed with her ability to multi-task I noticed my own situation.

Now, granted, I only had two brain cells to apply to the problem, but I couldn't determine if my new-found multi-tasking ability is an evolutionary step forwards or backwards. Obviously I've adapted to the demands of my ridiculously complicated life. Two businesses, four dogs (one of which is more than occasionally naughty), two very bad cats, and one small human child certainly make life interesting. In theory, being able to do many things at once sounds great. In practice, it means that I'm never completely focused on the task at hand. Like Augusta, I'm trying to pet the dog with my left hand but more often than not I'm just poking him in the eye.

Paper Training

For anyone who's never had a puppy, paper training is house training for lazy people who don't plan ahead. Puppies pee a lot, like every 30 minutes or so. Since no one actually has the time (or energy) to take their puppy out that often all of the time, paper trainers put down newsprint or some other type of pad and let the puppy pee on that. When the puppy has gotten older and pees less often, they then try to transition the puppy to peeing outside. This generally involves a lot of yelling, stained carpets, and upset, confused puppies.

There is, however, a wonderful built in puppy mechanism that these people are ignoring. Puppies, like all mammals, have a biological aversion to soiling their dens. And that is where crate training comes in. Crate trainers, rather than encourage the puppy to pee somewhere that will eventually be off limits--completely confusing the puppy later and creating more work for themselves--instead encourage the puppy to pee outside, the end goal. Between outside visits is where the crate comes in. Although many people have a negative reaction to crates or cages, most puppies love them. Dogs are den animals and when you throw a blanket over a crate it magically becomes a den--just like when you throw a blanket over two chairs they magically become a fort.

Crate trained puppies will automatically start practicing holding their urine longer and longer right away because they have the motivation of not soiling their den. They'll signal their owner to go out very clearly from early on--by barking, pawing at the door, or, as in the case of my late girl Harriet, ringing a bell. The puppy is technically house-trained within weeks, in other words, they will let you know that they have to go out and as long as you let them out in a reasonable amount of time, will not pee in the house. As they get older the amount of time between breaks increases as does the amount of time they can wait to be let out. The transition to adulthood is smooth and painless.

Now, here's my real point . . .

These practices apply to all mammals, not just puppies, and babies are mammals, too.

Paper training your baby--putting them in a diaper all day and encouraging them to pee in it--is lazy and sets you up for more work down the road. Peeing in your pants is not appropriate. Why teach your child to do it? They're just going to be confused a couple (or three or four) years later when you suddenly change the rules on them. Why not train your baby to use the potty right from birth?

You'll discover three things right away. First, your baby can hear and see what's around them from the day they are born. They are aware of their environment and react to it. They are not just little lumps. I held my baby naked in my arms and when she peed on me I made a little psss-psss sound, kind of like when you call a cat. Later, when I held her over a potty and made that sound again, she peed. That's all it took. By the time she was two weeks old all I had to do was hold her over the potty and she would pee.

And that's number two. Your baby has amazing awareness and control of their body from the day they're born. They know when they're peeing and they can pee at will. If your newborn pees or poops every time you take off their diaper, it isn't because "the air" is hitting them. It's because they realize that they can go at that moment and won't have to sit in it.

And that's number three. Your baby does not want to sit in their own mess. Like all mammals he or she is desperately looking for an alternative and they are crying when they can't find one. Although some babies cry for no apparent reason, most babies are crying because they're hungry, tired, or have to potty. When my daughter is hungry, I feed her. When she's tired, I rock her. When she has to potty, I potty her.

Augusta is seven months old and we've been practicing infant potty training, or Elimination Communication (EC) since she was born. She poops in her diaper maybe a couple of times a month. More than half of her pees go in the potty. Soon she'll be mobile and won't have to depend on her sleep-deprived and distracted mommy to get to the potty and I think she'll be a very, very happy baby. :-)

Our First War of Wills

And I won. By a hair, but I won and that's all that matters. The battle was over bottles--sippy lid vs. nipple lid. We've been going back and forth for a while now but I'd like to move more towards sippy lids. Last night was the first time she refused a sippy. I switched it out for a nipple lid and she was fine. When she tried the same thing this morning I suddenly had this mental flash of the next 18 years raising a tyrant. Hey, it takes one to know one, right? So I put my foot down. She cried at me and I offered her the sippy. She slapped it away, pushed it away, and at one point actually threw it at me. I stayed calm and just kept offering. Finally, after about ten minutes, she heaved a huge sigh, grabbed the sippy, drank drank the milk straight down, and fell asleep. Victory is mine. :-)

The Story of Stuff

Dear god, when did I become such a hippie? It was the homebirth that really pushed me over the edge, I guess. Now I'm watching videos like the one on http://www.storyofstuff.com/ and nodding my head. Thinking, thank god I use cloth diapers or I'd have to go out and kill myself right now. Yet another tragedy to lay at the feet of my innocent daughter--this and my huge ass. I can't decide which one is more alarming.

Mucus again!

Once you're aware of some things it's hard to turn that awareness off. Case in point: cervical mucus. Having once religiously tracked (and recorded) the quality and quantity of the stuff while trying to conceive, I can't help but notice it now. And having noticed it, I can't help but feel some anxiety about "wasting" it. So, in short, I had the almost overwhelming urge to call up the fertility clinic and schedule an IUI today. Crazy, I know, but there it is. Thankfully, I had enough willpower to resist the compulsion. I rewarded myself with a chocolate-covered marshmallow.

Update

Yes, it's a little late, but here's what happened:

On the 4th of July, the midwife came over and checked me at 8pm--just in time for the fireworks. She said I was only 2cm but was fully effaced (from zero effacement the Thursday before) and was just entering "real" labor. She decided to stay.

Around 10pm I began to get very nauseous. I couldn't eat or drink anything and was suddenly having a really hard time relaxing. I'd had no problems with the contractions, but the nausea cut right through my concentration. Luckily my friend Laura arrived (from her home over an hour away) who had volunteered to step in as my birth partner at the last minute when my original partner backed out.

At 3am the midwife checked again and I was at 5cm. She said several times how impressed she was with my relaxation and how well Laura did as my coach. :-) I labored through the day on Thursday and the contractions seemed to plateau in the afternoon. The midwife checked me at 6pm and I had only progressed to 6-7cm, but the baby had dropped significantly. She had me change position several times--until now I had been laboring primarily on my side since that was the most comfortable with my hip and back pain. She also had me take a shower and walk outside up and down my patio steps (my poor neighbors are probably scarred for life).

I'm not sure what time my water broke, probably around 7:30pm, but things immediately got much more intense. I labored on hands and knees and was fully dilated by 8pm and ready to push. My "ahh" breathing got a little more like "AAHHHHH" yelling at times and there was one "ahh" that turned into an "ahh, f#@$k!" but luckily that didn't get into the video. :-)

It was maybe 4-5 contractions to Augusta crowning. Despite my plans to watch her in the mirror and feel her head and catch her myself--I was fighting so hard to maintain my concentration that I ended up with my eyes squeezed tightly shut. The baby's head was halfway out when the midwife told me to stop pushing--that was the hardest thing I'd done, but I did it. She had me "grunting" Augusta out, little by little. After her head was out, her body was easy. I finally opened my eyes as they lifted her to me. She was slimy and dark purple and almost immediately peed and pooped on me. It was love at first sight!