The Hippo Effect

When Eric was a newborn, he had a great talent for drenching his changing table, outfit, and anything within a five foot radius... but not with pee. We were told all the horror stories of little boys and how they pee on everything whenever you take off their diapers. But not so with Eric. He had a greater talent that Rachel has inherited (genetic?). I call it the Hippo Effect.

It seems that Rachel, like Eric, has a charming tendency to blow-out her diapers with projectile poo. There she is: sweetly nursing away when all of a sudden she stops. And then you hear it. The mother of all poo diapers.

With Eric it took some trial and error before we realized that you have to wait at least five minutes because if you rush in to change the diaper, you will only have more projectiles coming at you without the benefit of the diaper barrier.

Why do I mention this? Because I'm setting up for a funny story (at my husband's expense of course... poor John) :-)

A couple of days ago I was resting on the couch downstairs, and I sent John up to change Rachel on the diaper station Pack N' Play in our bedroom. I thought, 'Finally, I get some 'me' time!'

About 3 minutes later I hear "Jen I need help!"
He sounds frantic. I'm thinking, "For God's sake, I manage to change Rachel's diapers without help" (For all those out there without kids, you would be surprised about how competitive and upset you get when your husband can't manage on his own). But I waddle upstairs to see what the problem is.

This is what I encounter: There's John standing over the changing table with pee and poo literally up to his elbows. Rachel is naked and covered (I mean covered) in pee and poo and looking up at John very confused. The changing table is saturated in the stuff. I wish I had taken a picture. I would have laughed hysterically because it really was funny except that I now know that I'm about to be covered with baby feces, too.

So I take Rachel and put her under our bathroom faucet to rinse her off. John goes into the shower with the portable Pack N' Play changing table. Together we hose Rachel down and get her back into a diaper and dressed.

With Eric, I think John and I would have been traumatized by something like that. It's now par for the course (the very, very long course). But it's nice to know that our kids have a natural talent and could always go out and fertilize our lawn. Scott's fertilizer is pretty expensive.

Losing weight after baby

I seriously could care less that I have 20 pounds to lose. I mean, my God, I just had a baby. But on Saturday I had to go for an emergency doctor's appointment- pink eye of all things (thank God no one else got it). So I'm at one of those Urgent Care clinics with Rachel, who's only 1 week old, filling out paperwork. The woman behind the counter asks how old Rachel is.

"1 week," I tell her.
"Wow," she says. "And you're pregnant again?"

Now, keep in mind this woman is supposedly a health care "professional" not some random moron at Wal-Mart. I wanted to smack her, or at the very least tell her that I only have one uterus, thank you very much. Everyone looks at least a little pregnant after having a baby. I would assume this chick had seen women after giving birth before.

And then, wouldn't you know... when I go to CVS to pick up my prescription, I get the exact same thing!! Verbatim: "How old's your baby... wow, you're pregnant again!" What am I, a rabbit?

I'm not the most patient of people, and I have a pretty caustic tongue. If I get something like that again, what should I say? Anyone have an idea on a pithy retort that won't put the pathetic individual in therapy?

Welcome Rachel Erin Loizeaux

Born on Saturday, April 11th at 8:30am. I had a successful home birth. Rachel came in at 21 inches, 8 pounds and 14 ounces- ouch.



Eric greets his little sister.



The best close-up I could get...

Everything Possible

So now I figure that Rachel takes after her father in that neither one will do a damn thing unless they feel like it (and I mean that in a loving way). John is an infamous procrastinator among his friends, and it seems that Rachel will inherit his personality. Which also means she will be very patient (or at least more so than Eric or I) because God knows she's patiently taking her sweet ever-loving time to get here!!!

Yesterday I had so much pain in my joints that I couldn't walk up or down stairs, or lift Eric, without pain. John had to stay home from work to basically take care of Eric while I helped. Last night I had my 40+ week appointment with the midwives. I begged the midwife to strip my membranes in order to possibly induce labor. When I walked into the appointment I was 3 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. When I left I was 4 centimeters dilated and 75% effaced.

Today...? Nothing. Nada. So this morning I drank 3 tablespoons of castor oil with orange juice. This brought on some contractions... and let's just say it effectively cures constipation. So I walked around a lot. Also had some contractions. But then nothing.

So I finally decided to make the "Break your water cookie" recipe that a friend sent me on facebook. It's ginger cookies with cayenne papper. They aren't bad, actually. Unfortunately I'm not a huge fan of ginger cookies, ginger snaps, etc. John, however, came home and started eating those cookies like they were filled with narcotics (John's a big fan of ginger-anything). At least they won't go to waste. And there's little chance of John's water breaking!

So ever since implementing those things I've had some strong contractions, maybe once an hour, but nothing to write home about. I'm just hoping that tonight, or tomorrow, is the day and I can stop being in pain. Of course, I'll be in more pain.... [sigh] But if it has to happen sometime, it would be nice if it were sooner rather than later.

Great Oprah Episode!

(Yes, I'm still pregnant)

I was able to DVR the Oprah episode that came on yesterday (did you really think Eric would nap and let me watch it live? Ha!). Wow. Ever since Eric was born, I have felt duped by motherhood. I've felt alone and angry that my identity and everything about my life changed so drastically (especially when it seemed to me that my husband's hadn't).

If you have kids (or want them) and didn't catch this, I hope you can find it on hulu or somewhere online. It made me laugh and cry to know that lots of other moms out there feel the same way- and that it doesn't make us bad mothers!

40 Weeks

Tomorrow I'll be 40 weeks pregnant. Eric was born at 39 weeks. What is she doing in there??

Time

Every night when I start counting contractions, I think 'this might be the last night that I have only one child.' And every morning when I wake up, I go into Eric's room and see his excited face and think 'will this be our last day together?'

Every day is bittersweet for me. I try to spend as much time with him as possible. Maybe the subconscious part of me is afraid of Rachel being born and that's why it's taking her so long. I love my son so much, and a part of me doesn't want the time with him to change. I am torn between being excited about Rachel becoming a part of this family and sad that Eric's life (and mine) is about to change for good. I wonder if this is normal for all moms about to welcome another child, or is I'm just overly melancholy.

Nap Issues

What toddler doesn't have nap issues?

Eric is ready for one nap. More than ready. The problem is he won't give up his morning nap, and when I try to push it back, he just resists. Eric will sometimes skip his afternoon nap, but as he's teething now, when he does skip it, he's a total pill. Oh, and runs into things and cries for hours on end. This is not fun. Of course, when he doesn't skip the afternoon nap, he sleeps too late and acts like a grouch until bedtime. [sigh] I've heard the transition to one nap is a long one, so I guess I should just count my blessings that I can put my kid in his crib for 2 hours and he doesn't cry or scream. God bless him. Mommy needs a nap, even if he doesn't.

And, no, Rachel hasn't arrived yet. I've hoping she doesn't arrive today though. I'm sure there are thousands of Americans who are born on April Fool's Day who would say they never had a problem, but I would rather she wait until tomorrow. With a last name like "Loizeaux" she's going to have enough trauma in life as it is. :-)