Oy. Vey.

The good:

• I had the foresight to arrange a grocery delivery today. It arrived.*
• I managed to get in to see the chiropractor this morning.
• I found a company open 24 hours that can come by and look at my garage door. They answered on the first ring at 7am today.
• Today is fresh diaper delivery day

The bad:

• The garage door wouldn’t close this morning; the motor just clicks.
• I dropped Darren at the train and drove off before he could open the door to kiss the poptart goodbye. Bad Mommy.
• I strained a muscle in my lower back yesterday.
• It being fresh diaper delivery day, I put the poptart in a dispoable this morning.

The ugly:

• I came back from dropping Darren at the train, pulled the car into the garage and switched the door to manual. Which means the door came down and
• I had to lift the door to get the car out so I could get to the chiropractor with my aching back.
• The poptart filled 5 diapers this morning.
• A back strain takes about 6 weeks to heal properly.
• $350 to replace the garage door motor.

Note to self: drink coffee before going to the train.

*More on that in a later post when I have 2 hands to type with.

Waxing rhapsodic about cloth diapers and reusable diaper wipes

So cloth diapers. Am in lurve with them.

A couple of weeks ago, the Poptart outgrew the small diapers I had for her. So I called the service and arranged for larger diapers. The problem? That was a weekend and they only deliver on Thursday. Meh, I thought. A few days of disposables won’t hurt. Because I’m just not doing that much laundry.

So we put her in disposables and she got a rash. We tried vaseline, zinc-based creams, and lubed her up like you wouldn’t believe before diapering her and nothing. I even let her air out for a few hours one day on a pile of towels and a waterproof pad (and really, she’s a nudist and loves being nekkid). We switched brands. Nothing helped.

So when the diapers were delivered I put her back in cloth. Within about a day, the rash had just about cleared up.

SOLD.

(we still put her in a disposable at night, but that’s because they absorb better and she sleeps a bit longer)

At the same time, I’d started looking into diaper wipes. Apparently, most of the chemicals used on them are not baby safe. And they’re freaking expensive.

So I cut up some extra receiving blankets to about the size of commercial wipes and made a solution of water, baby wash and a couple of drops of tea tree oil and started using that. And her skin has never been better. In fact, I’m starting to think I should be using that solution on my nether regions.

My only problem is that the cut up receiving blankets shed after they’re washed because the edges fray and I don’t sew. If anyone wants to hem them for me, there’s a bottle of wine in it for you

Also there is still time to sign the cloth diaper petition! If you want a copy I have a pdf and you can email me at rtissues (at) gmail (dot) com for a copy.

In which I give you even more reasons to hate me

So I’m hoping that we’ve passed a hurdle here. And I’m really hoping that by posting this I’m not totally jinxing this.

Back when she was about 3 weeks old, the Poptart started sleeping in 4 hour stretches. Which was great, especially when she slept through the period from 12am to 4am. If she could do that, I could do the rest because really, I just don’t do 3am well.

There was one weekend where on Friday night, she slept from from 12:30 to 7:30, Saturday night from 1-8 and Sunday night from 9:30 to 4:30. That Was Fantastic.

(Then the next night she stayed up til 3am, but oh well)

Then there was one night where I totally earned my Mother of the Year award because I was sleeping with her in the extra bedroom and had put the bassinet in the bed with me, right next to my head, and promptly passed out. I woke up about an hour later to Darren standing over me and picking her up because she was screaming. And had been for half an hour. That I’d slept through even though she was right next to me. And Darren had heard her. From 2 floors away. So there was two of the three of us sobbing. That was a Not Good Moment.

She was in no danger – she just had bad gas and belched about 8 times and farted twice when Darren picked her up. And as a rather wise mother of three told me the next week, “Its okay. Your body was doing what it needed to do that was the best for both of you. That’s why there are generally two people involved when it comes to making a baby.”

Yesterday, she turned 6 weeks old. For the last week or so she’s been sleeping from about 10pm to 5am or 11pm to 6am.

And now you can hate me.

Our biggest issue right now is transitioning her to the crib. She’s about 12 lbs now and the bassinet only goes up to 17lbs. And she’s almost too long for the bassinet.

Oh and that she doesn’t really nap in the afternoon.

Green Tax Credits

So remember when I wrote this?

Specifically, this sentence:

Where’s my tax credit for doing what I can? Where are my chits for locally grown meats and vegetables? Why not start there where its something more tangible?

Well, there’s an opportunity now. My diaper service has a petition in the Canadian House of Commons to ask for a tax credit for those that use cloth diapers and/or use a diaper service, and to increase taxes on disposable diapers. I have a copy of the petition to sign and I’m asking for your help.

Simply put, the more signatures that are collected, the better the chance at having a tax credit implemented.

So here’s the deal: if you want to sign and you’re in the metro Vancouver/west Fraser Valley area (up to Chilliwack), I’ll meet you. We can have lunch, coffee, whatever and you can meet the poptart. I mean, with this much cuteness, how can you say no?

You can leave a comment or email me at rtissues (at) gmail (dot) com.

If you’re not in the metro Vancouver Area, and you’d like to sign, you can contact the Happy Nappy Service in your area and see if you can sign.

Update: If you’re not local and have no access to Happy Nappy, or even if you are local and want to take it around to your friends/family/cloth diapering aficionados, I have a PDF of the petition. Leave a comment if you would like it sent to you. Note, the original needs to be sent back to Happy Nappy in Langley by July 31.

Cross-posted at Wet Coast Women

Cleaning house

First, a word of thanks for all the kind words in the comments on the previous post. And Sunshine, we’ll see you on Saturday for lunch I wrote that in a fit of sleeplessness and the next night I had a motherhood fail of epic proportions: I nursed her down, put her in the bassinette and put the bassinette in the bed right next to my head (I slept downstairs so that Darren could get some sleep), then fell asleep. About an hour later, I woke up to Darren standing over me, picking up the Poptart because she was screaming (gas and she’d been a Screamy McScreamerson all day). And had been screaming for a half an hour and I’d slept through it. With her literally right next to my ear.

So yeah. FAIL. You can imagine how good I felt about that one.

I took her to the chiropractor the next day to piggyback on my appointment and he gave her a bit of an adjustment. She has been excessively regular ever since and my chiropractor is excessively proud that babies are excessively regular when they come and see him.

Speaking of, can you get fit (or fitter) in15 minute chunks? The Canadian Chiropractic Association (CCA) is issuing a challenge: do 15 minutes of some sort of exercise per day for seven days (okay so it started yesterday, but who cares? do it anyways). And Andrea at A Peek Inside the Fishbowl has a contest for it. So go over there and comment and commit.

Also, exercise = endorphins = opiates produced by your brain and body = TEH HAPPY.

Today I’ve committed already to go for a walk with a mommy group. Should take about an hour. With a 10lb weight in the stroller.

The last couple of nights have been a lot better mainly because I have finally figured out the benefits of nursing while lying down. Like sleep. And its at this point that I offer my arse for kicking because I was one of THOSE PEOPLE who scoffed at the idea.

Faking it

So yesterday I went to the BlogHerVanCity thing and met some frabjous (and hot*) people, some of whom I’ve been chatting, emailing and tweeting with for months. Kind of a reverse one-night stand, if you will. The poptart slept all of the way there even though I strolled her down the torn-up Granville street that has no sidewalks except packed gravel and from one noisy location to another. Then she slept part of the way through the thing, and snuggled with Mr. Lady, ate, then fell asleep again shortly before we left. She sqwaked in the car a bit on the way back and then fell asleep until we got home.

And I met Susan from 5 minutes for mom who (is fabulous and wonderful and I really like her even though we only talked for about 10 seconds), who told me in no uncertain terms and possibly more than once how put-together, calm and organized I am going out with a four-week old. I thanked her profusely.

Because it is not true. By a long shot.

When I got home, the poptart woke up, we had company over and I ended up nursing her all evening, most of it upstairs in the nursery. Darren came up once to check on me and I snarled at him. I went to bed after I nursed her down even though company was still here.

Today, I have been crying quite a bit. Some days are good; some are not so good. Earlier in the week, I tweeted: “today is a hard day” because it was and I spent most of that day crying (she stayed up til 3am. Enough said)

I don’t sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch** (lack of shadows? That’s foundation and concealer and transluscent powder and some interesting eye makeup to make everything lighter – thank you, What Not to Wear). Even when the poptart sleeps longer, I get up every 2 hours, on the dot, to check her. I also lucked out in that I dropped the pregnancy weight within 10 days and can fit into last year’s summer clothes (that lack of muffin top? that’s a pair of pants where the waist doesn’t actually touch my skin unless I bend over or lean back or to the side).

So I take Susan’s words about being put together as a great compliment.

One of the things I tell my swim instructor candidates is if you’ve got a gap in your lesson plan, fake it. DO SOMETHING until you figure it out. Anything. Do something you did before, or try something new. Preferably, try something new that’s not too far beyond the limits of what your swimmers can do.

In other words, fake it til you make it.

So, although its easier to stay home, I go out: to the store, the library, the doctor, coffee and walks with other moms. And I plaster on makeup and a smile and I fake it. Because if I don’t fake it, for while, I won’t ever do it.

And so last night, although I felt left out of the conversation because I had to feed the Poptart, I mourned the loss of my previous life. As an ex’s mother used to say: life BC – before children. At the same time, this is so much better, in so many ways, even if I have to fake it for awhile:

 

*Hopefully Mr. Lady will let me keep my teeth for that.

**Yes, yes, I know. Sleep when the baby sleeps – not happening. That advice is a load of shit. If I’m still having this issue at the end of the month at the 6 week post-partum check, I’ll mention it to my doctor and see what he can do. And yes, Darren helps out, but really, he can’t lactate and she likes the boob.

Better late than never

I have a bunch of posts in draft which may or may not be finished, depending on SOMEONE’S sleeping habits (which are alternately good, alternately I-am-not-going-to-sleep-until-3am!)

Tomorrow the Poptart and I are going to truck ourselves to downtown Vancouver. ALONE. In the car. To go to this.

Yes, I am driving downtown. Mainly because I refuse to wrangle a stroller on the skytrain and you seriously cannot expect me to take my one month old (on Sunday) baby on some grimy skytrain? If only the West Coast Express ran on weekends. I would totally take her on there.

At the same time I am mildly freaked out about driving that far with the Poptart. By myself.

For those too lazy to click through, its the BlogHer VanCity pre-BlogHer meetup thing. Very casual and down at Caffe Artigiano (Granville). You can go even if you’re not attending BlogHer in Chicago. Come. Meet new people from the internet (they’re not that scary). And I’ll let you hold the Poptart. Who doesn’t like a little baby love?

If you would like to go, please to contact Mr. Lady or tweet with the hashtag #bloghervancity and let her know you’ll be there. There is an adult beverage option after but I shall not be going because (1) Poptart and (2) I managed to sort of, kind of double book and agreed to have friends over for dinner. I think that makes me certifiably insane.

Grace in small things 5/365

1. Falling asleep on the couch from 10-12 last night
2. Getting another 5 or 6 hours straight of sleep last night when the Poptart decided to sleep from 1-8
3. Having a partner that steps up and takes care of the Popart so I can get some sleep
4. Venturing out over a bridge as a family for the first time.
5. Being able to have a glass of wine with dinner and being relaxed enough from semi-adequate sleep to enjoy it.

Crossposted at my Grace In Small Things Blog

Did do

I read somewhere that its a good idea for new mothers, rather than having a to do list, create a “did do” list at the end of the day. Although its not technically the end of the day we are past the witching hour(s) here that run from about 1-3pm where I am used alternately as a buffet and a pacifier.

Today I:

- took Darren to the train
- had a nap when the baby napped this morning*
- got a roast in the oven
- registered Shannon for Medicare and extended medical
- ventured out and got a haircut because really the awesome pregnancy hair is no good in 31 degree weather (that’s Celsius, folks)
- did a load of dishes and unloaded the diswasher
- ogled my daughter. Lots.
- did a load of baby laundry due to a 3am diaper explosion**

*Yesterday I napped in the morning too after taking Darren to the train. I was so addled from sleep deprivaton that I woke up a couple of hours later and thought to myself, “I need to get up soon and take Darren to the train.” I rolled over and looked at the clock which read 8:30 and my brain exploded because OMG, I SLEPT THROUGH DARREN TRYING TO WAKE ME UP! I leaped out of bed, checked Shannon then ran down the stairs to look for Darren. I looked in the garage and his car was there. Now I was really confused. So I ran down to the office and it was only at that point that it clicked that I already took him to the train. Then I went back to bed for an hour.

**This is what happens when you take your newborn to the chiropractor. They poop.

Two weeks

As of 6:52pm tonight, we will have kept the poptart alive for two weeks.

Things I have learned:

1. Yes, your boobs actually tingle when the baby cries. Or squeaks in her sleep. Or moves and you see it. Or think about her. Particularly if you’re engorged.
2. The baby will wake up to eat when she damn well pleases, not when you need her to because you’re engorged.
3. The breastpump is a godsend.
4. Nursing tanks are expensive, but worth it.
5. The baby will sleep. Eventually. Patience.
6. You really shouldn’t overdo it the first couple of weeks after birthing a 8lb 9oz bowling ball (who was up to 8lbs 12oz at 10 days of age). Because then on a Thursday night you’ll freak out about the sudden onslaught of blood and take yourself to emergency to get checked out, only to be told its nothing to worry about and your body is trying to purge itself of old fluids, tissues, etc and its normal for the toilet to look like a scene from “Carrie.” Oh and to take sitz baths (and who knew? they actually help!) and to take it easy and put your feet up.
7. Of course, 6 means that Darren will take the Friday off work to keep an eye on you which means you can go grocery shopping which sort of defeats the purpose of “take it easy”. Note to self: look into grocery delivery service.
8. Overdoing it is much easier when every trip out of the car and into a building means lifting and carrying a carseat. Or carrying the bassinet up and down stairs. Or the laundry.
9. Activia is the yogurt that makes you regular.
10. The hormone crash sucks donkey balls. A baby sleeping on your chest makes it all better.