Potty Training, End of Week 1

Tags

child care, daycare, diapers, motherhood, parenting, potty chart, potty training, rewards, stickers, toddlers, training pants

Well, it has been a little over a week since we began potty training, so I thought I’d give you an update.

I was a little nervous sending Owl off to daycare, because Daycare Lady insisted on Pull Ups.

Now, we love Daycare Lady.

I lucked out with her in many ways, and probably in more ways than I realize. For example, she just mentioned to me recently that the woman who runs the daycare down the road from her claims that it “isn’t her job” to help parents with potty training, that she “just needs to keep them safe.”

Ladies, that daycare is Daycare One, from my daycare hunting days.  I never even thought to ask them, when looking for a place for my 11 month old, whether they considered potty training part of their job. It went without saying. Or so I thought.

SO. I lucked out, even with Helper Lady’s foibles thrown in.

But the diapers have always been a bit of a problem. 

Despite the fact that Daycare believes in non-toxic cleaning products and organic, from-scratch meals, her hatred of germs makes her heavily pro-disposable diapers.

Which means that she insisted on Pull Ups, despite the fact that The No Scry Potty Training Solution and Hannah from Hodgepodge have both warned me against them, and I know for a fact that Not Mary Poppins over at Daycare Daze puts them in underwear to train.

I pointed out to her all the arguments against Pull Ups – that they’re still diapers, so the kid won’t feel any different, that they are more absorbable than his cloth diapers so it would actually be a step BACK and so on.

We compromised on Pull Ups OVER his underwear, because she insisted that she couldn’t allow him in only underwear, due to hygiene concerns.

For the next three days, he came home wearing Pull Ups only, with the underwear in his diaper bag totally untouched.

By the third day, I was livid.

Meanwhile, Helper Lady was telling me at the door in the mornings that “Baby no understand. He good boy, but he no understand, Mommy.” (Helper Lady calls all the mothers “mommy”)

Oh really? Our potty chart begged to differ. 

In fact, the morning she told me that, he had peed in the potty SEVEN TIMES and pooped once, and we hadn’t had an accident in two days.

Daycare Lady told me that he was going fine for her, but not always for Helper Lady. Daycare Lady also suspected that Helper Lady, being older, was losing track of time and not taking him often enough.

And as Helper Lady pointed out, “You have one baby, Mommy. I have eight.”

Fair point. Plus, there’s a difference between running around the house with no pants on and the potty RIGHT THERE, versus having a diaper and pants on, a house full of kids to play with, and a baby gate between you and the bathroom.

But still.

It pissed me off, because I am a first time mother, and they are supposed to be the child care professionals. I felt like they should be better at potty training than me, not worse.

And then when I picked him up on Thursday, I was told that he had pooped in his Pull Ups and that it had burst out of his Pull Ups and gone all over the floor in a manner that I’m sure Hannah would sympathize with.

My first reaction was actually a mild schadenfreude. That’s what they get for putting this kid in disposables. Poop has NEVER stayed within the confines of Owl’s disposables. Serves ’em right.

I guess they figured the same thing, because the next day not only did he come home with underwear on under his Pull Ups, but Helper Lady informed me that he DID understand for pees!

So I would be triumphant, BUT…

Since the Poop On The Floor, not only has he been having poop accidents in his pants, but he bursts into tears when they happen, pointing at the floor and howling “NO POOP DOWN DOWN!!!!” and “Waaaah, MY POOOPED…” heart brokenly.

Witnessing one of these meltdowns on Saturday filled PH with so much fury that he began to talk about sending Owl elsewhere.

So Sunday we went to the dollar store and bought some crappy plastic animal toys. We put them in a clear vase on the mantle and told him he could have one every time he pooped in the potty.

When he finally had a success, we gave him ALL THE CANDY, and special BUTTERFLY stickers, and CARS sticks, AND A PLASTIC WOLF.

He was so delighted he kept sticking the plastic wolf in the potty and saying “Look, Wolfie, MY POOPED!”

Over the next hour he then proceeded to produce what Not Mary P would call “iotas of shit” in order to receive a hippo and a dinosaur. After his nap and before bed, he pooped one more time for yet another plastic animal.

We’ve done what we can to reverse things. I’m going to go put him in his undies and Pull Ups, and take him to daycare.

Wish him luck. 

I Bet No One Has Ever Had THIS Diaper Problem Before

Tags

babies, child care, child development, cloth diapers, diapers, disposable diapers, health, toddlers

Our baby has no bum.

When rear ends were being handed out, Owl was at the back of the line, or possibly not even in the building. I sometimes wonder whether the reason he hovers in the 10th percentile is simply because other babies have bums.

Normally, we don’t really notice our child’s complete lack of buttocks. His cloth diapers are thick and bulky, and they hold his pants up very well, while also providing a nice cushion for landing on.

^artificial bum

But when we travel, and we put him in disposables, we REALLY NOTICE. First of all, when he topples over he is much more likely to cry, as there is very little padding to protect his wee tail bone. Secondly, his pants DON’T STAY ON.

It’s really quite ridiculous. We had to pin all of his pants at the waist to keep them on when we went home for Christmas, and my mother in law had to actually hem and alter the pants on his little suit that my mother gave him – it was a 12 month size and he was 15 months old but WE HAD TO ALTER HIS PANTS.

Altered pants: STILL TOO BIG

Even then, the pants didn’t stay on well.

When Owl is in disposables, even the pants that are normally too snug on him hang down until he looks like a little gangster.

Owl in disposables

There’s simply no way to keep them on, because he has no waist for them to hang on. His body tapers from the shoulders like a carrot.

and this is in a swim diaper, which is still pretty bulky

But we never considered that we might actually be causing his bum deficiency.

We were shown the error of our ways by the Helper Lady at Owl’s daycare.

I picked Owl up a couple of days ago and found him wearing a disposable diaper.

“Helper Lady put him in that, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with her,” said Daycare Lady. “She asked me to pass on a message to you, because her English isn’t good enough for her to explain it to you in person.”

“Oh?”

“She thinks that his cloth diapers are the cause of his diaper rash.”

“You mean the diaper rash that started when we tried using wet wipes on him, and that has been clearing up ever since we went back to cotton wipes and water?”

“Yes. It’s looking a lot better. Um, she also wanted me to tell you that she thinks that the cloth diapers are constricting his bottom, and that’s why it’s so small.”

“…what?”

“She thinks that they don’t breathe properly, and they are snug on him, and that’s keeping his bottom from growing as fast as his top part…”

Guess who has two thumbs and a corset on his bum? THIS BABY

“…REALLY?”

“You’re lucky she doesn’t speak English! She used to be a high school teacher! She’s very DEFINITE about her views!”

I brought Owl back to daycare in a cloth diaper the next day anyway, but if anyone knows a website where I can find information about the risks of disposable diapers or the benefits of cloth diapers in Farsi, I’d greatly appreciate it.

Meanwhile, I need to think about warning Happy Nappy about this unanticipated effect of their diapers on infant bum development.

Because apparently baby bums are like goldfish: they only grow if given a roomy enough container.

WHO KNEW?

Speaking of Poop: Another Disposable Diaper Rant

Tags

babies, baby poop, cloth diapers, diaper leaks, diapers, disposable diapers, parenting, travel

I’ve been meaning to write this for a while. We’ll see if I can do it with this puppy tied to me, alternately chewing on her bully bone and yelping in my ear.

When we went to Nova Scotia I gave disposable diapers another chance.

I put my cloth diaper service, Happy Nappy, on hold while I was gone and went off to the plane with some disposables left over from a diaper cake that I received when Babby was born.

By the time we landed in NS, Babby had had three clothing changes. The first happened in the airport, because when we arrived we discovered that he was already soaked in urine. This turned out not to be the diaper’s fault. PH, bleary eyed at five in the morning, diapering Babby in the dark, and unaccustomed to disposables, had accidentally put the diaper on backwards.

Kind of thing that could happen to anyone, I’m sure.

So we put a new diaper on, frontwards, and dressed Babby in dry clothes.

Half way to Toronto I discovered that Babby’s back was covered in poo. I did a full diaper change (which was not a ton of fun in a airplane washroom) and washed all the poop off of Babby’s back, and dressed him in yet another set of clothes.

The next couple of diaper changes were just pee, so they were fine.

Then, not half an hour before landing in Halifax, I went to change Babby’s diaper and discovered… you guessed it… poop up his back. 

Another set of clothes. Good thing I came prepared.

The poop-up-the-back scenario repeated itself on a nearly daily basis during my time in NS. I tried a couple of different brands, to no avail.

The most dramatic event happened while I was in Halifax for the day. I planned to visit Hodgepodge, then visit Perfect Girlfriend at her work, visit my old coworkers at my old work, and then have dinner with my cousins.

So there I am, hanging out with Hodgepodge, while Babby plays with the world of toys in her play room and squeals delightedly at the kids around him. He pushes himself to sitting from his stomach for the first time while we chat, and I am very proud of him. He starts to fuss so I pick him up and nurse him. When he finishes I sit him up, and realize that there is poo on my hand.

The poo, I quickly discover, came from under his shirt. I lift the back of his shirt and discover that it is all up his back – again – and now it is on my hands. I swear, lift him up, and realize that there is poo on my pants, where he lay as he nursed. On, and on my shirt, as well. Oh, and on my cell phone. 

This is, by no means, the worst poop incident I have ever dealt with. I said before Babby was born that after dealing with dogs, no poop would faze me, and I stick by that assertion. But on the other hand, I do object to being on a day trip to the big city only to discover that I am covered in poop from head to toe, and realize that while I brought changes of clothes for Babby I brought none for myself.

Did I mention that the poop was a bright Babby-had-scrambled-eggs-for-breakfast yellow? With that squirty, squishy consistency of a still heavily breastfed baby?

Hodgepodge, who runs a day home, was completely unfazed and helped me clean Babby and myself up as much as possible. My pants were dark, so once wiped the poop stain wasn’t particularly prominent. But my blue shirt did not merge well with baby poop stains.

So now I had a clean baby, cleanlooking pants, a cell phone that only had some minor yellow poop drying in the cracks, and two prominent yellow poop stains on my shirt – one over my boob and one over my stomach.

Grand.

Hodgepodge raided her closets and found me a baggy white t-shirt to change into, which I did gratefully. Now that the postal strike is over I need to get my mother to mail that shirt back to her.

I then left to go visit my coworkers and my best friend in a baggy white t-shirt. While at the mall I bought a new shirt just so I could go to dinner with my cousins without feeling like someone who was pooped on that morning.

Disposables? SUCK.

The next time we ran low on diapers, Perfect Husband brought home some Huggies, which advertised “leak-lock” technology. And you know what? After that, we didn’t have any more poop squirting up Babby’s back.

…It came down the legs, instead.

At least this outfit didn’t get poop stained until AFTER the service!

It starts

Tags

diapers, formula, marketing, pregnancy

Perfect Husband took me to buy a new bathing suit at a maternity store after my birthday dinner on Thursday. He has this week off as a random much-needed vacation and he had taken transit out to the local mall while I was at work. When we walked into the maternity store, the clerk smiled at PH and said “back for the bathing suits?”

I have to say, I feel that it must take guts to walk into a maternity store when you are an unaccompanied male. I was nervous walking in, just because I wasn’t visibly pregnant!

But the first reality of my upcoming maternity hit at the cash register.

“Would you like to register for our points card? When you sign up you get sent 400 dollars worth of coupons, and free Pampers and Enfamil samples.”

For four hundred dollars in coupons, I might have said yes. But the Pampers and Enfamil stirred me to such a “hell, no” reaction that I had to make a conscious effort in being polite as I turned down the card.

I suspect I’m going to end up being a relatively crunchy mom, but I’m not a lactivist or anything. I don’t think that mothers who give their babies formula instead of breast milk are bad mothers. While “everyone knows” the benefits of breast feeding, I know that it doesn’t work for everyone. Some people have babies born with cleft palates, who can’t latch. Some women simply never reach full milk, or for some reason their milk doesn’t seem to satisfy their baby. I think it is a good thing that formula exists, so that mothers have something to fall back on when their natural equipment lets them down.

I don’t think that mothers who use disposable diapers are bad mothers, either. I’m a hundred percent sold on cloth diapers, especially when I can hire people to take the diapers away and clean them for me, and have them dropped back on my doorstep weekly, without my ever having to lift a finger. I have already found the diaper service that I plan to use, and while the cost is probably equivalent to disposables, it’s worth it to me, to be able to use cloth without sacrificing convenience. But I understand that some mothers simply prefer disposables. That’s their choice.

But it really bothers me when I see these companies coming in and setting up future mothers. They’re trying to hook women onto their inferior products. I’m sure you have all heard of how baby formula companies “donate” supplies to mothers in third world countries, and have a history of aggressive marketing. It’s positively evil. It’s just that same kind of aggressive marketing that leads women who shop for maternity clothes to be sent free samples of formula. I think it’s sick. I think baby formula has its place, but that should be as a resort for mothers who can’t breastfeed, or for whom breastfeeding is not working. It is not the kind of thing that they should be sending free samples of!

I feel the same way about disposable diapers. I can hardly knock ’em before I try ’em, but we all know how disposable diapers make up 1/3 of all landfill space, that they increase chances of asthma and reduce fertility in boys. We know that they tend to come with increased diaper rash, and a later age of potty training. I’m glad they exist, because cloth diapers don’t work for everyone. They may not even work for me. Even if I love my diaper service and cloth nappies I’ll probably use the occasional disposable. But I don’t want those diaper companies hawking their products at me, trying to get me hooked before I even have a chance to try something else.

Am I overreacting, or does this kind of marketing sicken others, too?