I think it's so funny that now Noelle suddenly needs to pee every time she sees Natasha doing it.
Yesterday when Natasha poo'd in the potty, Noelle declared, "I get a gummy bear!" Umm, doesn't quite work that way, Honey! She's the one who poo'd, not you.
Just lots of funny stuff going on in the household right now. I have to admit, EC is fun. I really look forward to the day and seeing how the baby will pee and poo on cue. It's ridiculously easy compared to when I potty trained the toddler. I mean, it's only been FOUR DAYS. I haven't had to clean a poopy diaper yet. There's only been a handful of pee diapers every day - most of them from nap-time and overnight. In short, it has been an amazing and somewhat perspective-altering experience.
And is it easy? Umm, YES. Without a doubt, yes. This is what I have been doing.
She wakes up, I put her over the trash can (though I am about to switch over to Baby Bjorn potty which we already have) in the classic EC position, then I say "pssss" - sometimes she pees, sometimes she doesn't. Then I nurse. Then she starts arching her back and making small, whiny noises. I put her over the trash can or potty, again in the classic EC position, and say, "mmm, mmm, poo poo" - five seconds later she is having a bowel movement, we clean up really easily with a wipe, and her diaper goes back on. It's ridiculous.
I repeat before and after naps/bedtime. What I've done, essentially, is simply changed my routine, replacing "diaper changing/butt wiping" throughout the day with "pottytunities" (potty opportunities). And more often than not, she goes!
I see now that it actually takes more effort for me to diaper the baby than just to take her to the potty. I was changing so many cloth diapers everyday (not wanting her to sit in wetness or a soiled mess) that now I calculate that I am actually spending LESS time dealing with her poo/pee.
It feels a lot like the way I treat my potty trained older girl. Before we go out of the house, I take her to the potty so I know she has an empty bladder and won't have an accident in the car. If she has juice in the car ride over to wherever we are going, then I know she's got to visit the potty once we arrive at our destination. The same logic works with my baby. Before I put her in the carseat or carrier, I make sure she pees first. That way I've got some time before her little bladder fills up again. She'll be less likely to have an "accident."
Like this afternoon, even though she peed before we left for our walk, she started getting antsy in her carrier about 20-30 minutes into our walk. I could just tell. She was squeezing her legs together and breathing sort of ragged, like she was maybe uncomfortably full in the bladder. I told Noelle we had to high tail it back home so I could let Natasha pee. For modesty reasons I didn't feel comfortable exposing her bare little bottom out in the middle of a sidewalk. We got into our outdoor parking garage, and since I still had to put the stroller and other items away into the car, I decided just to let her pee on the landscaping in the garage area since it was pretty private. I took her out, took off her diaper and squatted her in position. Lo and behold, she went like a race horse.
These experiences continue to astound me.
I am starting to think that we as a society have gone backwards. Or just simply lost our potty wisdom. There's nobody to teach us how to potty our babies. We just stick them in disposable diapers, forget about their elimination and let them sit in their our waste for hours. For YEARS. It feels a terrible shame. I let Noelle wear diapers until she was two years old. I just did not know she could have been trained far earlier. I also just didn't know how. Nobody to teach me how easy it was, either.
I heartily recommend the e-book, EC Simplified. The author taught me how to potty my baby.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Elimination Communication, Day 3
It's day 3 of our venture into infant potty training.
And I am 100% absolutely convinced now. Babies don't want to pee on themselves, on us, or in their own beds. They will communicate to us that they have to go, and we either ignore them and let them go in their pants, or we take them to a place where pee pee and poo poo go! Wow!
I feel a little bad that I made Noelle cry-it-out so many times when she was young, not realizing that a lot of times she was crying because she wanted to pee/poop or because she was already soiled and needed me to change her. I just didn't know infants could communicate such things. Or that they even were aware of their elimination.
So I got interested in Elimination Communication ("EC") a while back when I read a book about how historically, infants have been potty trained before they were one year old. This was out of necessity, too, because there were no such thing as disposable diapers that could be worn for 12 hours before you could feel wet in them! Babies wore cloth diapers and parents just got plain old sick of washing them, so that was the incentive to getting your baby trained to pee in a pot and not in a piece of cloth.
I had a vague idea of EC, and I always heard my mother tell me stories about my brother who was potty trained by my Grandmother. He was out of diapers by the time he was one year old. And he's a boy! They say boys are harder to train than girls. Yet my brother could pee and poo on the potty by the time he was one. It made me think.
Despite this hearsay, I still couldn't figure out how to do it. I had no idea when the baby needed to pee or poo. There was nobody I could observe, nobody to teach me how to pee or poo a baby. So Noelle grew older and we continued our reliance on diapers. First on disposables, then we switched to cloth. Once we switched to cloth, I quickly realized how irritated I was at cleaning poops smeared all over her bottom. That's when I got motivated to at least start potty training her. She wasn't potty trained until 2 years old.
I determined with baby #2 was that, even if I didn't know quite yet how to EC, I wasn't going to let her get used to sitting in a wet or soiled diaper. I was going to change it right away. I also determined that I was never going to let her get used to pooping standing up. I was going to teach her to recognize when she was going, by making a "mmmm" sound when she went, and I would try to hold her in a position like she were sitting on the potty. That way when it came time for me to train her, she wouldn't resist and be unaccustomed to pooping sitting down.
So far, she has absolutely gotten the sound associations! And she gets the EC position. She knows when I say, "mmm, mmm" and put her in the EC potty position, that it means it's ok for her to go.
The e-book that I am reading, EC Simplified, has been awesome. Watching the videos, doing the step by steps, has been eye-opening. I am a firm believer now and probably won't be buying anymore disposables "just in case" anymore. We've got our cloth diapers and that's what I'll use between potty trips to catch the ones that I miss or am too busy to be aware of.
It's really incredible this one thought. The author, who did EC with her boy from day 1 (who had daytime dryness since he was 11 months old), estimates that 1/3 of infant's cries are cries to communicate about their elimination. Isn't that amazing? Now I understand all the "unexplained fussiness" and the "why is she crying?!?!"
And I am 100% absolutely convinced now. Babies don't want to pee on themselves, on us, or in their own beds. They will communicate to us that they have to go, and we either ignore them and let them go in their pants, or we take them to a place where pee pee and poo poo go! Wow!
I feel a little bad that I made Noelle cry-it-out so many times when she was young, not realizing that a lot of times she was crying because she wanted to pee/poop or because she was already soiled and needed me to change her. I just didn't know infants could communicate such things. Or that they even were aware of their elimination.
So I got interested in Elimination Communication ("EC") a while back when I read a book about how historically, infants have been potty trained before they were one year old. This was out of necessity, too, because there were no such thing as disposable diapers that could be worn for 12 hours before you could feel wet in them! Babies wore cloth diapers and parents just got plain old sick of washing them, so that was the incentive to getting your baby trained to pee in a pot and not in a piece of cloth.
I had a vague idea of EC, and I always heard my mother tell me stories about my brother who was potty trained by my Grandmother. He was out of diapers by the time he was one year old. And he's a boy! They say boys are harder to train than girls. Yet my brother could pee and poo on the potty by the time he was one. It made me think.
Despite this hearsay, I still couldn't figure out how to do it. I had no idea when the baby needed to pee or poo. There was nobody I could observe, nobody to teach me how to pee or poo a baby. So Noelle grew older and we continued our reliance on diapers. First on disposables, then we switched to cloth. Once we switched to cloth, I quickly realized how irritated I was at cleaning poops smeared all over her bottom. That's when I got motivated to at least start potty training her. She wasn't potty trained until 2 years old.
I determined with baby #2 was that, even if I didn't know quite yet how to EC, I wasn't going to let her get used to sitting in a wet or soiled diaper. I was going to change it right away. I also determined that I was never going to let her get used to pooping standing up. I was going to teach her to recognize when she was going, by making a "mmmm" sound when she went, and I would try to hold her in a position like she were sitting on the potty. That way when it came time for me to train her, she wouldn't resist and be unaccustomed to pooping sitting down.
So far, she has absolutely gotten the sound associations! And she gets the EC position. She knows when I say, "mmm, mmm" and put her in the EC potty position, that it means it's ok for her to go.
The e-book that I am reading, EC Simplified, has been awesome. Watching the videos, doing the step by steps, has been eye-opening. I am a firm believer now and probably won't be buying anymore disposables "just in case" anymore. We've got our cloth diapers and that's what I'll use between potty trips to catch the ones that I miss or am too busy to be aware of.
It's really incredible this one thought. The author, who did EC with her boy from day 1 (who had daytime dryness since he was 11 months old), estimates that 1/3 of infant's cries are cries to communicate about their elimination. Isn't that amazing? Now I understand all the "unexplained fussiness" and the "why is she crying?!?!"
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Stabilizing
Things are better now!
That's all I have time to say. Haha!
Just kidding. Okay, here's a glimpse into what life is like these days.
Noelle does laps around our coffee table as Natasha takes yet another nap upstairs.
I prepare dinner starting at 8 in the morning if I want it on the table by 5 p.m.
I change 12-15 cloth diapers a day and wipe pee-pees and poo-poos all day long.
Nurse, nurse, nurse some more. Try to prevent Natasha's head from being crushed by Noelle's hyperactive jumping/crawling. Do lots of laundry.
My favorite part of the day is walking outdoors with baby in the frontpack and little girl running ahead of me.
Oh yeah, and recently they have both started going to bed at the same time. So I am finally getting alone time for myself and to spend with my hubby. It's nice!
That's all I have time to say. Haha!
Just kidding. Okay, here's a glimpse into what life is like these days.
Noelle does laps around our coffee table as Natasha takes yet another nap upstairs.
I prepare dinner starting at 8 in the morning if I want it on the table by 5 p.m.
I change 12-15 cloth diapers a day and wipe pee-pees and poo-poos all day long.
Nurse, nurse, nurse some more. Try to prevent Natasha's head from being crushed by Noelle's hyperactive jumping/crawling. Do lots of laundry.
My favorite part of the day is walking outdoors with baby in the frontpack and little girl running ahead of me.
Oh yeah, and recently they have both started going to bed at the same time. So I am finally getting alone time for myself and to spend with my hubby. It's nice!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Swinging, Rocking, Rocked
My world is spinning. I am a ballerina trying to do a triple pirouette on the tiny point of one toe.
I spin out of control. The world is a dizzying place. And my muscles are sore; they feel like melting jello.
This is my life right now on zero sleep. Do you like my metaphor?
Having a colicky infant is hard (she has inconsolable crying for hours every single day AND night). Having a colicky infant plus a highly active, non-napping toddler is very, very hard. I am really tired. Out of my mind exhausted.
But there is mercy for tomorrow morning.
I remember driving to the park. I probably shouldn't be driving. But I remember the oversized, swinging chair they have for the handicapped and kids with special needs there in the playground. I sat in that giant, cradling, contoured chair. And I swung back and forth, back and forth, my little baby strapped to me in the carrier I was wearing. It was the hand of God, that chair. I almost fell asleep there, quieted and soothed and rocked to sleep. Though nobody can see and many don't care, I am shrieking and crying and quite inconsolable at times inside my heart.
I rock my baby, and God rocks me. I will say it again. There is grace for tomorrow morning.
I respond to my baby every time she cries in pain; will God not respond to me? Will He not nurse me as I nurse my own child? "Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Of if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him" (Matthew 7:9)
God hears my cries and He will answer and give grace for this moment and for the moment I will need it tomorrow.
I spin out of control. The world is a dizzying place. And my muscles are sore; they feel like melting jello.
This is my life right now on zero sleep. Do you like my metaphor?
Having a colicky infant is hard (she has inconsolable crying for hours every single day AND night). Having a colicky infant plus a highly active, non-napping toddler is very, very hard. I am really tired. Out of my mind exhausted.
But there is mercy for tomorrow morning.
I remember driving to the park. I probably shouldn't be driving. But I remember the oversized, swinging chair they have for the handicapped and kids with special needs there in the playground. I sat in that giant, cradling, contoured chair. And I swung back and forth, back and forth, my little baby strapped to me in the carrier I was wearing. It was the hand of God, that chair. I almost fell asleep there, quieted and soothed and rocked to sleep. Though nobody can see and many don't care, I am shrieking and crying and quite inconsolable at times inside my heart.
I rock my baby, and God rocks me. I will say it again. There is grace for tomorrow morning.
I respond to my baby every time she cries in pain; will God not respond to me? Will He not nurse me as I nurse my own child? "Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Of if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him" (Matthew 7:9)
God hears my cries and He will answer and give grace for this moment and for the moment I will need it tomorrow.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Four of us
We all sit on the king-sized mattress, on top of a soft, fluffy mound of blankets and pillows.
Tasha won't be left alone to sleep in her crib because she wants to be held. And so I hold her, gladly, knowing these days pass so fast and can it just stay like this forever?
She is propped between my legs and Noelle cuddles up against my side. Daddy brings a book and we, the four of us, read our bedtime story together. It's such a party. A sleepover.
It's so much fun that I don't want to stop with just one story. And usually it's Noelle who wants more than one book at bedtime. This time it's me.
But Kevin knows better - it's late for Noelle and for us, too. We were up until almost dawn with the newborn, but somehow the lack of sleep doesn't feel too bad.
The house is a lot noisier, too, with sounds of nonsensical chatter and singsong whimsy and baby's crying. Yesterday the walking and talking girl was climbing the stair rails yelling, "I'm trying to be a monkey! I'm trying to be a monkey!" while her father gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils with anxiety about her falling.
I am pretty much head over heels for my new little girl. She's the quiet one who just murmurs and nurses and breathes softly like a bird.
There is so much fat and marrow in these days. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; these days He has given and given and given. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Tasha won't be left alone to sleep in her crib because she wants to be held. And so I hold her, gladly, knowing these days pass so fast and can it just stay like this forever?
She is propped between my legs and Noelle cuddles up against my side. Daddy brings a book and we, the four of us, read our bedtime story together. It's such a party. A sleepover.
It's so much fun that I don't want to stop with just one story. And usually it's Noelle who wants more than one book at bedtime. This time it's me.
But Kevin knows better - it's late for Noelle and for us, too. We were up until almost dawn with the newborn, but somehow the lack of sleep doesn't feel too bad.
The house is a lot noisier, too, with sounds of nonsensical chatter and singsong whimsy and baby's crying. Yesterday the walking and talking girl was climbing the stair rails yelling, "I'm trying to be a monkey! I'm trying to be a monkey!" while her father gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils with anxiety about her falling.
I am pretty much head over heels for my new little girl. She's the quiet one who just murmurs and nurses and breathes softly like a bird.
There is so much fat and marrow in these days. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; these days He has given and given and given. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Child of my Womb
I sit beside her miniature bed.
I am a big, pregnant lady - belly swollen and skin stretched impossibly taut - sitting on a laughably small, white chair. There's a weight limit on that chair, but it's always held me for these nine months of weight gain, so I continue to sit next to her as she drifts off into sleep.
She likes her back to be scratched as she drifts. So I scratch it for her.
Her skin feels as thin as a balloon and underneath it are delicate bones. Like once when I felt a toy Yorkie and its quick, shallow breaths felt so fragile underneath the bones and soft fur as breakable as a hamster's.
Asleep now, her breaths are deeper and restful and slower. Her eyelids are shut together as softly as petals on her cheeks and I wonder where is she now? Somewhere I cannot follow, somewhere God takes her, takes all of us individually when we sleep.
She came from inside me - deep down in the dark unseen - her head once wedged between my pelvis, murky waters cushioning ears and eyes from sound and light. Somehow God put her together: she has skin, hair, miraculous eyes, impossible brain so intricate, ten fingers and ten toes. And she can laugh like I've never heard a person laugh before.
She started a baby with meconium poop from all the months inside my womb, and now she walks upright in the world and talks to us and when she sees me tired she says, "Mama, you lay down to sleep awhile." O, Child, when did you become so compassionate?
It's a brief time He's given to me with this child. I feel it falling out of my cupped hands like sand through the fingers. And I am reluctant to let it go.
I am a big, pregnant lady - belly swollen and skin stretched impossibly taut - sitting on a laughably small, white chair. There's a weight limit on that chair, but it's always held me for these nine months of weight gain, so I continue to sit next to her as she drifts off into sleep.
She likes her back to be scratched as she drifts. So I scratch it for her.
Her skin feels as thin as a balloon and underneath it are delicate bones. Like once when I felt a toy Yorkie and its quick, shallow breaths felt so fragile underneath the bones and soft fur as breakable as a hamster's.
Asleep now, her breaths are deeper and restful and slower. Her eyelids are shut together as softly as petals on her cheeks and I wonder where is she now? Somewhere I cannot follow, somewhere God takes her, takes all of us individually when we sleep.
She came from inside me - deep down in the dark unseen - her head once wedged between my pelvis, murky waters cushioning ears and eyes from sound and light. Somehow God put her together: she has skin, hair, miraculous eyes, impossible brain so intricate, ten fingers and ten toes. And she can laugh like I've never heard a person laugh before.
She started a baby with meconium poop from all the months inside my womb, and now she walks upright in the world and talks to us and when she sees me tired she says, "Mama, you lay down to sleep awhile." O, Child, when did you become so compassionate?
It's a brief time He's given to me with this child. I feel it falling out of my cupped hands like sand through the fingers. And I am reluctant to let it go.
These Days
My heart is quiet these days.
I am thankful that this baby has reached almost 40 weeks.
That is God's goodness.
I am very curious the cup awaiting me to drink. What will labor be like this time? God knows. Long or short, painful or mild. He has a cup prepared for me to drink, when the time is right.
I am looking forward to meeting our new little one, nursing her, changing her diaper and marveling at what a miracle has been wrought in the womb. These nine months of dark mystery will sprout up into a flower.
Meanwhile our oldest has blossomed into a flower all her own. She's a little personality so sweet and real as any person walking this earth. Suddenly she's been insisting that she absolutely will not wear pants - she wants to wear skirts and dresses. And she prefers pink or purple to any other color. "I don't like black," she says.
She is also very unlike the rotten child that I was when I was her age. Whereas I used to hoard all my food, she shares even her most favorite and prized snacks with me and her dad and anyone else who is close with her. She is marked by a very peculiar generosity and trust in those around her.
She has remarked before that she would like to share a bed with her baby sister. I imagine this would be a sweet arrangement once they're both a bit older...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)