diaper changing, a traumatizing experience

I've thought about video-taping a diaper changing episode to show you exactly what I deal with every few hours on a daily basis, but I figured that putting my son on the internet sans clothes was a bad idea (even though it would make great blackmail material when Parker is a teenager). So instead of a video documentary, I will describe it to you.

This morning, for example, I fed Parker his breakfast. Approximately 4 minutes after eating, he is off in a corner playing. He abruptly stops digging at/banging the AC vent and stands up. You might think he was just standing there doing nothing (think whistling, looking-at-the-ceiling, no-one-is-pooping-here baby), but I know better. I knew he was pooping, so when he finished and went back to playing, I knew he needed changed...contrary to what he was trying to convince me of.

So I scoop Parker up to carry him to the changing table, and this is when the drama starts. "WAHHHHHH WAHHHHHH WHY ARE YOU TAKING ME AWAY FROM throwing all my books on the floor/ripping all the pages out of my books/popping all the lids off of my formula/getting into the cabinet with all the cleaning supplies/digging in the litter box........etc. etc. etc."

Then he usually stops crying momentarily while I am holding him, until he sees us closing in on the changing table. Then he starts freaking out again, since he knows the torture that I am about to give myself him. I lay him down and try to play with him. I sing to him and give him ANYTHING he wants to hold (including the fan/light remote, car keys, my ipod, my phone, a bottle...you name it, I've tried it)...but he is no longer fooled. He knows I am going to change him so he uses all his tiny muscles to flip over.

I flip him back over. He is screaming.

I get his diaper off. Pee diapers are not too bad. Poop is much worse, but if I know it's there I can have the wipes open and ready to go. The worst situation is when I have a ghost poop. A ghost poop occurs when you think you are only changing a pee diaper, but when you open it up you have poop instead, and you are completely caught off guard.

How on earth do ghost poops happen? I'm guessing a good diet of probiotics from yogurt...it makes the poop almost undetectable by smell. Either that, or I am so desensitized by bad smells at this point that my nose just doesn't work.

If I have a ghost poop, usually I don't have the wipes open and I certainly don't have a wipe pulled through the hole. These poops almost always happen when the wipes are near the bottom of the container and I'm desperately shoving my two longest fingers in the wipe hole opening trying to reach the bottom to grab a wipe.

You would think there was a million dollar bill at the bottom of that container then way I am sweating and trying to reach down there. 

While I am trying to reach the wipes at the bottom of the container, Parker is fighting the hell out of me...while the diaper is open. I am now using one hand to try to keep his grabby-hands away from his poop covered scrotum while simultaneously I am holding his feet up at his ears. He is still screaming bloody murder.

So I use the poopy diaper to try to wipe some of the crap off his butt so that maybe I'll only need 50 wipes instead of 75. I finally get a wipe out of the container, and start wiping and cleaning and trying to keep those damn little hands away from the poop.

Then here's the best part: Parker has somehow learned to soothe himself during these extremely traumatic experiences by squeezing his butt cheeks together and bouncing his butt up and down while frog-legging his legs. BOING BOING BOING. So I have one second between boings to wipe in his crack before he clenches up again.

Clench, boing/wipe. Clench, boing/wipe.

Does anyone know what I am talking about here, or is my son completely out of his mind??? 

At least he usually isn't screaming anymore. It just takes me at least 10 minutes to get him cleaned up.

Putting the new diaper on is also difficult because all Parker wants to do by this time is get off his back. He can't stand it (odd, coming from a baby who also HATED tummy time...).

I finally get the diaper on and his clothes put back together. I pick him up and he always acts like nothing happened.

When do kids start to cooperate with diaper changes?????

day care disaster

When we moved to St. Louis I heard from other moms to get on the waiting list for day care ASAP. So in August I googled "Wash U daycare" and found their website. I filled out their wait list application, mailed them a check, and was waiting waiting waiting until Friday of last week.

They called to tell me they had a spot, I immediately agreed to take it, and Parker was going to start May 1st. I was so relieved. When I was writing the check my husband asked me to verify the cost, because it seemed to be more than other residents were paying. I emailed the director and she called me.

After a short conversation she informed me that I have been on the wrong wait list the entire time. I was on the wait list for attending physicians, fellows, and graduate students. There is a separate wait list for residents...and the two different day cares are not affiliated with one another. Therefore, my time did not transfer and they could not accept me. 7 months of thinking I was on top of the daycare situation, and THEN they drop this bomb on me. And they drop it a month before I need child care. But not to worry, she is very sorry and will refund me the $150 I already paid to hold my spot.

I was SO ANGRY on Friday I was shaking. I felt completely...victimized? Screwed? Someone should have caught this when I first mailed in my application. In addition, I called several times between them receiving my application and my being accepted and subsequently kicked off on Friday, and made it PERFECTLY clear that my husband and I were residents. No one said a thing.

I called the director back and, as calmly as I could, I informed her that I thought the fair thing for them to do was to make an exception for us and let us enroll until the correct daycare had a spot for my son. The director said she would call their Wash U liason and talk to them about it. On Monday I got called back with a big, fat no. No exception...they cannot take my son.

I then called the regional manager of the day care. I explained that this is no one person's fault, but someone should have informed me during one of several phone conversations that they don't take resident's children...someone should have caught the error. I told him that one problem is that their staff don't understand the difference between a medical student, a resident, a fellow, and an attending. I also told him that their website doesn't specify who they take and who they don't take. It says it's for "Wash U faculty and staff." The application is equally vague as it doesn't ask you to put down your occupation; it only asks you to put down your "company name" (which I put down as "Wash U surgery").

The regional director (and actually everyone I spoke with) was extremely nice and apologetic. The problem is that I'm still completely up a creek, if you will. The regional manager said he was going to talk to someone to see if maybe they can accept us, but it doesn't look promising. I am supposed to hear back from him on Monday.

In the meantime, I've been getting on wait lists left and right. I am calling around to home day cares also. The problem is that the day cares that have open spots for a 12 month old have serious problems. Stay tuned for an update about the centers I've visited...you won't be disappointed.

Occam's razor burn

I know a lot about my husband's toileting routines. I know that he is almost 30 and uses Axe hair gel (so he can get some "hair action"), that he uses WAY too much face wash, and that he showers in the morning and bathes at night. I also realize that his bowels cannot move properly without the aid of his iPad. One thing I don't know about him is the kind of razor blade refills he uses.

I knew he was out of razors, so when I was at Target I actually remembered he needed them (it's a big deal if I remember to buy anything besides baby stuff) so I went down the shaving aisle. I had no idea which razors he used. I tried calling him but he didn't pick up, and since Parker was causing my arm to feel like it was going to fall off at this point in the shopping trip, I decided to just buy him a pack of disposables. I didn't buy the 0.99 cent Bic ones, I bought ones that I thought were good. They had at least 3 blades. They weren't generic. The aloe strip wasn't microscopic.

I felt like such a good wife since I remembered to pick up razors, even though I knew they weren't the right ones. Tim was very thankful.

The other night, he was shaving with one and was complaining about how bad they were. The thing is, he was practically on his last one...he never told me to get different ones. I just assumed they were fine. After he was done shaving, his neck looked the a cheese grater had attacked him.

Then I had a brilliant idea.

"Here baby, I have some lidocaine gel you can use for your neck."

Lidocaine gel...aka Bikini Zone.

Bikini Zone, in case you aren't familiar, is a gel for use after shaving your bikini area. It has lidocaine in it, so I figured it would be great for Tim's face and would make his irritation feel better. Soooo I squeezed a huge amount into his hand and waited for a blissful look of pain relief to spread across his face.

Apparently the skin on the face and neck is a little more sensitive than the skin of the bikini area (in my defense, you can see how I might have thought the opposite, no?). Tim rubbed all the gel onto his neck and started scream-laughing and fanning his face while jumping up and down. This was like the reaction in Home Alone with the aftershave, except a million times better.

He yells at me, "What did you give me?!?!" So I showed him the Bikini Zone.

Of course, he wasn't exactly happy that I had given him crotch cream for his face, but I was laughing so hard that I didn't care.

We learned a valuable lesson here, and that is not to use Bikini Zone on the face. Apparently it stings. A lot. Apparently it also smells bad (contrary to their advertisement of a "light refreshing scent"). I wouldn't know, since I've never put it near my nose.

I will say that the next day, after the angry red burned-skin look had abated, his face and neck looked smooth and irritation-free. You're welcome, my love.

The sad thing is, I still don't know what kind of razor blades he uses. I never thought this would be in the "need to know" category of wifery.

racism is a pediatric disease

Are you totally sick of the racism and intolerance that still runs rampant throughout this country? Please read for the brown boys, a post from Mom's New Stage. It's touching and will hit home to every parent. Let's stop corrupting our children with racism, because they all start out perfect.

{But not all as perfect as this...couldn't resist putting in a picture of my son as a newborn :)}

picture perfect

When I was a kid, I was a very selfless little girl. I always put others first, especially my grandparents. This is a letter I sent to my grandmother when I was a kid.

It reads, "Dear Grandma, Please send me a letter." I wrote my name at the top so she wouldn't accidentally send one of my siblings (or God forbid, one of my cousins) a letter instead of me.

The following represents the time in my young life when I realized that I would never become an artist. Feel free to admire the following self portrait (and what self portrait is complete without a rainbow to accompany it?):

I may or may not have been somewhere near high school when this was drawn.

hooking up isn't always cheating

Today I am linking up with Mom's New Stage for a Q and A session. This is very exciting for me for several reasons.
1. It means my blog was interesting enough for a fellow blogger to include me (thank you!)
2. It came at a great time, since after a very stressful week I am having writer's block
3. Focused writing is good writing

The first "rule" is to post the rules, so here they are:
1. Post the rules.
2. Tag up to eleven bloggers by posting links to their blogs, and let them know.
3. Create eleven questions for the people you’ve tagged.
4. Answer the questions your tagger posed for you.
5. Have fun!

So I don't know 11 bloggers, but I will tag a few blogger friends who I follow:
Confessions of a Recovering Supermom
Dollops of Diane
Dr. Princess
Misadventures in Motherhood
Pampers and Pumps
Team Studer
The Misanthropic Father

Here are the questions I will be answering:

1.  How long does it take you to write a post?
It depends on how excited I am to write it. Sometimes 10 minutes and sometimes 10 hours. Maybe I should avoid posting the ones that take 10 hours. 

2.  What does hubby think about your blogging?
He feigns interest. I make him read most of my posts. He is kind of an egotist...he likes the ones I write that mention him, even if they cast him in a less-than-perfect light. (Hi Baby!)

3.  Number of times per day you check your stats?  I ask because I have a problem.
HA! I have that same problem. I check it like a crack addict the day I've written a post. Then maybe once a day on the days I don't post. Very rarely, I'll go an entire day without checking. 

4.  If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
My first inclination was to say anywhere, as long as I am with my husband and son. But that's not entirely honest, so I won't lie. I'll say San Francisco. I've never been there, but the gays know how to live and all the hype about the area has to be about something!

5.  Time you go to bed vs. when you should be in bed?
I go to bed between 10 and 11. I really should go to be between 9 and 10, since my son is still waking up no later than 5 am. I'm torn between loving his early bedtime (between 6 and 7 pm) and hating his early awakenings. 

6.   Current fashion trend you'd pay to have bombed off the earth immediately?
Those toe shoe sock things that people run in. I'm not even sure if this is still considered trendy since I'm the most unfashionable person I know. But if it is still cool, it's a total gimmick. Hope all you people enjoy the unnecessary tetanus shots you'll need from running in those things!

7.   If someone put you in Target right now, what is the first thing you'd buy?
I'm salivating at this question. Probably shampoo, since we are running dangerously low. Then I'd look at the bathing suits and think about how I used to be able to look good in a bikini.

8.  What makes you laugh these days?
Reading people's blogs. And watching AFV (that's America's funniest home videos, for the lay people). 

9.  Toy you would very much like to see your child "lose"?
Hmm...this is a tough one since my son is only 11 months old. I can't wait to retire the exersaucer since it's such an eyesore in the living room and I'm really tired of stubbing my feet on it. 

10.  We all read about stars and think "Hey, she's normal! We could hang!" You know you do! Name a female celeb you think would be a good pal.
This would be an easier question if it asked who I would never hang out with (Jessica Alba, Jennifer Garner) but to answer it I'll say Emma Stone.

11.  Can you talk about personal goal for 2012?
My goal is to maintain blogging after I start working as an OBGYN resident in June. It might not be easy, but pregnant women do so many funny things it shouldn't be hard to come up with material. Women in general make amusing patients. I once had this really sweet teenage girl come in for her first gyn visit. When her parent left the room, I asked her if she had any questions while we were alone. She asked, "How do you know if you've had sex?" WOW that one took me off guard!

And there you have it, some insight into me!
For the people I tagged, here are your questions if you so choose to answer them (if not, enjoy the free publicity!!)
1. Is there anything you are looking forward to when your child hits their next stage of childhood? If you are childless, is there anything you are really looking forward to about having children?

2. What would your dream house have that is a unique expression of yourself?

3. What's your favorite TV show nowadays?

4. What do you secretly love about your significant other that they may not know you love? If you are single, what do you look for in a partner?

5. What really annoys you in a relationship?

6. What got you into blogging?

7. How do you feel about kids on leashes?

8. What is something embarrassing you've done lately (or seen happen to another person)?

9. Do you have April Fools plans?

10. Do you still celebrate your birthday?

11. How much time do you spend on facebook?

the stress of matching...a hairy situation

Monday I find out if I match into a residency program here in St. Louis. This has been an extremely stressful week for me, waiting and waiting to find out.

Saturday, I realized that what I was feeling was well beyond stress...it was straight up panic. My indicator? My trichotillomania flared up again. Yeah...I wish I was kidding about this one, OHHHH but I'm not. When I wasn't happily being distracted by Parker, like when he was napping, I found myself literally standing at the window, looking outside, and pulling my eyebrows out. I know, wtf, right?

Most people with trichotillomania pull out their eye lashes, so I don't know why I go for the brows. Just another neurotic thing I do, I guess.

So I'm standing there like a CRAZY person, staring outside....mooooooonday is coming....monday is coming...PLUCK...MONDAY is coming...PLUCK....FUCKING STOP PULLING OUT YOUR EYEBROWS.

Check facebook.

Monday is coming...PLUCK...

I try to make myself feel better by saying, Okay, I'll only pull out the raggy ones, not the smooth ones. But eventually I don't discriminate. I've had one other major trichotillomania episode in my life. It was in med school, and I pulled almost EVERY ONE of those fuckers out. It was SO embarrassing.

 Those brows were not shaped that way on purpose. It wasn't pretty, took a long time for them to fill back in, and they never looked the same.

I hope that blogging about this will make me aware that now that other people will be paying attention to my brow situation, I will stop doing it. Here's hoping. Anxiety is a bitch, people.

I might be less stressed about the whole thing if my family, bless their hearts, would stop pretending like there is no chance for me not to match. They have no idea how the process works. Much stranger things have happened. Lots of competitive people don't match. I calculated some stats...last year 10 people who applied to OBGYN ranked only 3 programs. 6 of them matched, 4 didn't. I figure that gives me about a 60% chance...maybe slightly higher.

This is the problem when you academically succeed your entire life (please forgive the egotistical nature of this statement)...you're not allowed to worry about failing. This makes the anxiety even worse, because I'm not allowed to discuss it with anyone who isn't in medicine. And if I did fail, everyone's disappointment would be unbearable. Telling me, "Don't worry you'll match...you always succeed," is the least helpful thing to say to me. It's actually kind of insulting. What's better is to say, "You'll find out soon, and if you don't match, have a plan."  Thank you friends who know how this process works. This is the right thing to say.

Other things not to say are "think positive thoughts.' My dad has been thinking positive thoughts about winning the lottery for decades now...it hasn't panned out well for him. 

My plan for if I don't match is to book the next flight down to Gainesville so I can try to scramble into a medicine preliminary year here in St. Louis. And hope for some divine intervention that my adviser can make some calls before I get there. Having this plan makes me feel a little bit better. Hopefully it won't have to be implemented.