The Magic of Baby Wipes

So this whole crayon thing got me thinking on this topic the other day...You see, when she first colored on the wall I thought, "no big deal. I'll use baby wipes." I figured I had out-manuevered my toddler and wasn't worried one bit. The problem was, though, that my "magic eraser" didn't work! I couldn't believe it. The baby wipe didn't even SMUDGE the crayon. Now, some of you (especially non-parents) out there in cyber space might think I'm insane for thinking it would work or for even trying, but please allow me to explain to you the magic that is baby wipes.

In our house, we have a container of baby wipes in every room. This is no exaggeration, folks. Why have them in the kitchen? Well, in the kitchen, they can be used to clean spaghetti sauce off of a toddler, or better yet---off of said toddler's white shirt! They can also be used to wipe down the table quickly once mealtime is finished, especially since the toddler is bound to make a quick exit, and there is not enough time to bust out the antibacterial cleaner and paper towels, which are of course in a child-locked cabinet...And maybe while your little one is chowing down, you notice that your white board is looking a bit cluttered and could use a cleaning...Guess what you would use to clean it off...anyone? Baby wipes! Did you notice that white scuff mark on my black oven? No? Well, that's because my baby wipes took it off!

Moving on to the living room, the baby wipe possibilities are seemingly endless. Of course, combined with a portable changing pad, the living room is a great place to change a diaper...well, provided that you aren't entertaining company (non-parents who might be grossed out) of course, in which case you may want to move to a more "appropriate" venue. That's boring though. Say that you notice you have some water spotting on your off-white microfiber sofa (what idiot parent would ever buy an off-white microfiber sofa you might ask? ME)...When your steam-vac doesn't do the job and where Oxy Clean fails, the baby wipe prevails! And when your little one decides to sip on your orange soda and spills it all over your ivory carpeting (and what parent in her right mind would ever have IVORY carpeting? Well, I will never claim to be in my right mind, but yes, me again), don't despair! Grab a baby wipe! Are we getting the idea yet? Trust me, my dearest non-parent friends and followers, these babies can provide a benefit in your home as well. For example: drunken buddy spills Captain & Coke on your off-white microfiber sofa? It's no match for the baby wipe! Girls' night get a bit crazy? Red wine on your carpet? No problem! You see where I'm going with this?

I think the best baby wipe victory so far, though, has definitely been getting latex paint off the carpet. Yes, people, you read that right. Latex paint off ivory carpet. PURPLE latex paint, in fact. I was about to lose it when my hubby had an oopsie while we were so carefully painting our daughter's room. We had put a sheet down and everything, and when it came time to clean up that day, we moved the sheet only to find a HUGE blob of purple paint on the carpet. The blob was gone with a couple baby wipes and some elbow grease. UN-freakin-believable.

So with all of these victories, baby wipes have become my go-to item for any kind of mess on any surface. It only stands to reason that I would have expected the wipes to do the trick on the crayon...the WASHABLE crayon. But alas, this time baby wipes were defeated by Kleenex! Who knew?!

I've said this to my hubby a few times since the whole latex paint thing: "What is in these things anyway?!" But the truth is, I'm really not sure that I want to know...because if I find out, I'm afraid I might have to deem them unsafe for my kids' behinds. And then what?! So I have decided not to do any further research into the 'why' they work and to just consider it magic.


Til next time...

In Living [Room] Color

Well, it finally happened. My hubby and I have been planning for this day since the day we found out we were pregnant with our first baby...you know, the day when they realize that walls are FAR more fun to color on than paper. Thankfully, since we've just pretty much been waiting for it, we weren't necessarily all that shocked or ridiculously pissed off.


Here's the thing, though. We've been teaching her for months, yes, MONTHS that "we only color on paper." We always tell her "paper only" so that she understands that paper is the only thing you can color on...This became a bit more complicated when we started introducing her to books, other than the board books she's had since she was a baby, as books ARE paper. So we've struggled a bit there, which I suppose is to be expected. For the most part though, she's stayed on track and only colors on paper. I found out today, though, that this was all a ploy. It was all a way to earn my trust, so that she would be allowed to have unlimited access to crayons, even when Mommy isn't in the room...

This morning, I went to the bathroom, and surprisingly she didn't follow me when I said "Mommy has to go potty." Yes, I announce every SINGLE time that I am going to the bathroom. I should have known that something was about to go down right then, but I didn't. Instead, I relished the idea of peeing without supervision, a rare opportunity once you become a parent. While I was in there (for what, I mean 2-3 minutes???) I heard it. I heard it, and there was NOTHING I could do to stop it...


When I came out of the bathroom, I saw her beautiful smile and the beautiful toddler mural with which she had so creatively enhanced our living room wall. I looked at her with the mom look: you know, serious eyes, head slightly tilted downward and to the side, arms on the hips and said, "Hayden, we only color on PAPER! Paper only!" And pointing at the recently enhanced wall, "THIS is NOT paper, Hayden. This is a WALL." She giggled incessantly, as if to say, "Come on, Mommy! White is BORING! Red is a much better color"...She never takes me seriously, even when I do the "mom face"...I think it's a toddler thing. Anyway, I said to her, "Give Mommy the crayon, please," and surprisingly she handed it over.

I guess I'm happy that this was the ONE room in the house that hasn't gotten a fresh coat of paint since I moved in, though. I mean, at least she didn't take a crayon to HER bedroom, which we spent WEEKS painting. So now, the question is whether or not we should paint the living room this spring or wait even longer, being that we still have one more creative little one who I'm sure will be just itching to add her creative touch to the walls.


Til Next time...

Mission: Accomplished

So, this morning I decided to tell my hubby that he should go to work and that I'd take the girls by myself to Gigi's (Hayden's nickname for Genevieve) one month check-up. I knew this was a suicide mission, but I also know that our mortgage is due with this coming paycheck, and it's been ridiculously slow at hubby's work due to weather. That said, I was willing to sacrifice my sanity in order to well...save my sanity.
I set my alarm for 7am, hoping that I would beat everyone else to the punch. Surprisingly, the little ones actually cooperated and allowed me to get up and brush my teeth, have a cup of coffee, get laundry started AND set them all up for the morning trip! I actually had to wake up BOTH of them!
After waking them, I had to get them both dressed, diapers changed and fed...Parents, you know the drill. So, I gave Hayden her milk and some cereal while I fed G. I knew I'd be cutting it close at this point, since it was 8am, and we needed to be on the road by 8:30...So while feeding G, she decided it would be a good time for a blow-out...and I am NOT talking about a hairstyle here, people. She finished up eating, and I had 5 minutes to get them both loaded up and be backing out of the drive. Keep in mind that I now had to change G's outfit (2nd time this morning) AND her diaper AGAIN. It was 8:30 at this point. As soon as I got her loaded up into the truck, she puked...EVERYWHERE. And we were already running late. Thank goodness I had thrown their laundry in the dryer this morning, so I was able to run in and grab a sleeper out of the dryer and throw it into the diaper bag...I had to leave her covered in puke for the ride or we'd lose our appointment, be charged a fee AND need to reschedule...grrr.
So, I backed out of the drive at 8:40 in the biggest rush ever. Did anyone think to plow our neighborhood since we last got snow? Apparently. NOT. So I fishtailed my way out of our cul de sac and decided it was probably best if I slowed my roll until I got out of our subdivision...FINALLY, we were on the road. And as we got on the road, I looked down...and BAM. Gas light. Seriously?!
So I decided to ignore the gas light and just get to the appointment. We walked in at 9:02, which I consider a monumental victory. When we got into the exam room, the nurse asked me to get G out and get her undressed (which I needed to do ANYWAY), and as I was trying to undo the harness, I busted a nail, my thumb. My right thumb, which I desperately need for both typing AND texting. Do I have nail clippers with me? Of course not! Well, while the nurse was asking me all the stupid questions the ped always asks (do you have working smoke detectors in your home? Where does baby sleep? etc.), I used some wipes to clean up the carseat, which was completely doused in my kid's upchuck. I really had no idea how bad it was until I took her out of the seat...ahh well, shit happens I guess...and so does puke.
The appointment went fairly well, and then when it came time to pack everyone back up, Hayden decided to make a run for it. It's a crying shame when they get to the point where they can open doors without assistance, isn't it? I mean, and whose bright idea was it to put the easiest handles EVER on the doors at the PEDIATRICIAN'S office anyway? A lever handle? REALLY?

At any rate, G was only half buckled when I had to sprint down the hallway and into the breakroom to retrieve my toddler. After doing so, I had to very quickly finish buckling G into her seat and then ended up carrying BOTH of them out to the car...Yes, you read that right. I had my 26 lb toddler in one arm, and my 11 lb infant in an infant seat on the other. I opened the door to the outside with my FOOT...I guess the lever handle came in handy (or more like "footy") after all.
So, overall, I'd say I did pretty well. I mean, I made it to the appointment on time-ish, alive, with both kids AND I made it back home alive with both kids. It's always an adventure though, ya know?
Til next time...

Murphy's [Boob] Law

So. Murphy's Law states that anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong. I am applying this axiom to my breastfeeding life. I was diagnosed with mastitis (funny that it has "tit" in the name, isn't it?!) 9 days after Genevieve was born.

My vindictive little shit of a doctor prescribed me the WORST antibiotic known to man, which I took because I had to take it. I'm pretty sure she got off the phone with me and did that evil laugh,you know the one: "muaaahhaahaahaa!" I'm fairly certain it was her aim to torture me in any way that she could possibly think of...Back to my story: I had to take this crap FOUR TIMES a day, in between meals. Literally people, I had to take this stuff 2-3 hours AFTER eating and 1 hour BEFORE eating again. Parents out there, you KNOW that this is virtually impossible to do as a mother because you never know if/when you will get to eat in the first place. I skipped more meals in that 10 day period than I have...well...EVER. I could never be anorexic. ANYWAY....

6 days after being diagnosed with the mastitis, I came down with thrush. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. After nursing my little one that fateful morning, out of nowhere, I suddenly felt like someone was stabbing me with 10,000 needles in my nipple. The pain was enough to take my breath away and have me grabbing at my chest. Tears came streaming down my face, and I just thought, ARE YOU SERIOUS?! WHAT THE EFF IS THIS?!

So, I called the on-call number AGAIN, and AGAIN it was my favorite OB. Fan-effing-tastic. So the woman calls in two "magic" pills that are supposed to get rid of this infection. HA. Yeah, right.

Thankfully I had a meet-n-greet with a potential new doctor the following Monday (2 days later), which I was just PRAYING would go well enough that she'd realize my previous doc is a moron and help me out in a pinch. Well, someone is watching over me because she was awesome. She knew that those two "magic" pills weren't going to get rid of the thrush, so she called in more meds for that. She was happy with where the mastitis was and said it seemed to be almost gone so I should just finish taking the nightmare antibiotics...

Fast forward another week, and this Domestic Goddess is still in a ridiculous amount of pain. So I called yesterday and left a message on the nurse line. The callback today said I should come in and see the doc, and she said, "Congratulations! You now have mastitis in BOTH tits AND still have thrush!" Okay, well, those weren't her exact words...but you get my meaning. She also made sure to tell me that I am doing nothing wrong, and that this can just be a vicious cycle of mastitis/thrush/mastitis/more thrush. GREAT! I wanted to tell her that I have OBVIOUSLY done SOMETHING wrong in this life or a prior one to deserve this kind of Karma.

At any rate, she prescribed me more antibiotics (different ones--the kind I can EAT while taking) and more meds for the thrush and more pain meds to get me through this crap. In addition to that, I'm also still taking prenatal vitamins and probiotics to combat the antibiotics. I am a walking pharmacy, people.

Whatever the case, I have learned to stop saying things like, "I can't wait to see what's next," or "bring it on," or whatever other stupid sayings I've used to continue my bad fortune on the boob front. So now I will say, PLEASE LET THIS MADNESS STOP!!! I can't take it much longer...I Just want to feed my kid without being in an enormous amount of pain. That would be such a gift, wouldn't it?

Til next time...

[Nips] Just In!

Well, everyone, she's done it again! Victoria's Secret sets the trends for what's hot in underthings. In case you're missing out, you should know that nips are in! Well, they're actually out, which is in. The bra is called the 'Naturally Miraculous,' because it has the super power of giving any woman who dons it an extra TWO cup sizes and the 'natural' look of hard nipples. I mean, what more could we possibly ask for, ladies?!

Who SHOPS there?! I've got a couple things going through my mind when I see this bra:
a. If I wanted my nipples to show, I'd NOT be wearing a bra and
b. I'm certain that I will not allow my daughters to shop there until they've moved out of my house.

I remember a time when it was Fredrick's of Hollywood that was famous for trashy lingerie, meanwhile Vicki was known for her sexy, yet still classy underthings. It's panties like these, with not-so-clever sayings across the behind, the perfectly impractical 'assless panties,' and the 'naturally miraculous' nipple bra that have them running neck-and-neck with Fredrick to be renamed "Sluts R Us."

I think I'll stick with Calvin Klein...and Target for my unmentionables.For more on how I feel about Victoria's Secret, Click Here!

Minivan[ity]

Soooo, I was reading yesterday while my newborn was on the boob. I love to read the moms boards, good stuff. Well, the topic of the day seemed to be minivans...I know I know. This sounds ridiculously boring, and so I completely ignored the thread. HOWEVER, someone tipped me off that it actually got quite colorful, and so I decided to sneak a peek.
FOURTEEN PAGES later, I think I almost peed myself laughing so hard. The initial question was whether or not minivans have "cooties." Yes, people, that's what it said: "cooties." Well, one of the first few women to comment basically explained how I feel about them: there is a stigma about driving around in a minivan that screams "Hey I'm a mom! Is it my turn to bring snacks for the soccer game? Want to carpool?" And lastly..."I have graduated from Uncool University and should now also be wearing 'mom jeans' and those loafers with the tassles." (These are MY words, by the way, not hers exactly)
This woman wasn't judging anyone for driving a minivan anymore than the original poster was who in not so many words accused those of us who drive SUVs of being materialistic or careless about the environment. At any rate, this debate went on for seriously FOURTEEN PAGES of cool vs. uncool, you're judging me, no you're judging Me, and 'I was the uncool person in high school.'
I'm really not sure if anyone ever got to the bottom of the issue at hand, which is whether or not minivans do, in fact, have cooties. So, with that said, I will divulge MY opinion on them.

I am one of the people who has stated that she will NEVER own a minivan. And truthfully, I don't give a shit if people consider me vain, immature, materialistic, careless about the environment, stupid, irresponsible, or the like. For me, if I'm going to spend a boatload of money on a vehicle, it damn well better be something that I WANT to drive around for the next 6 years or so. And that's what it all comes down to, right? Personal preference. It's the same logic that applies to auto makers reasoning for making so many different models of vehicles, each having their own benefits and unique looks.
If I had 3 or more kids, I STILL wouldn't buy a minivan. I'd probably be looking at a suburban or a stretch Hummer limo or something (Lord, strike me down because I said 'hummer' instead of Jeep---sorry, honey!). It's just not my style. Are they convenient? Sure. Comfy? Yep. Stylish? Well, that's debatable, but they're not terrible...And yet, none of those things matter because they don't APPEAL to me.
Now, does that mean I can't be friends with someone who drives a minivan? WTF do I care? If that's what my friends want to spend their money on, great! I think saying that someone is being judgmental when they describe THEIR feelings toward a particular vehicle vs. another though, is just plain stupid. Just because I'd feel like I've graduated from Uncool U if I owned a minivan does NOT mean I feel that any of my friends who drive minivans are graduates of UU. It probably means they're more practical than I am...
And if my never wanting to buy a minivan makes me a careless, materialistic, immature, impractical moron, I guess that's what I am. 'Cuz ya know what I want to buy whenever we've got the cash?
A FULL SIZE QUAD CAB 4x4 PICK-UP TRUCK! 

Today's Random Thought...Pancakes VS Waffles

I often wonder, and so I thought I'd put this on the internet for my dear friends and followers to ponder as well, why it is that one can make both pancakes and waffles from the SAME mix and somehow, two things happen.
1. They taste different and
2. Waffles are SO much better!
Maybe someone out in cyberspace can answer these very important questions for me.

Belly Button Bologna

So it all began on Tuesday, when we took Genevieve for her 2 week check-up at the ped. Her belly button hadn't completely healed since the umbilical stump fell off @ 6 days old. The doc said casually that she'd like to put a little silver nitrate on it to help it heal up a bit quicker...Right here is about when I should have busted out my trusty Blackberry and hopped on the internet...but I didn't. Damn me for placing my trust in yet another human being who has the initials "MD" at the end of her name. I asked her if it hurts when she started to apply it, and Genevieve started squirming and then crying. She said, "Oh no, not at all. She's probably just uncomfortable because I'm digging around down there." This seemed plausible to me at the time, so I just shrugged it off...Later, after speaking with one of my RN friends, I found out that it stings/burns, so of COURSE it hurts! Why lie to me? Honestly, I just don't get it. I point-blank asked the woman if she was hurting my baby, and she said NO. She was hurting her...So we go home, and Wednesday morning I notice that the top part of her belly button (interior, not the area AROUND it) is raw and wet-looking. I thought that was odd, being that it was perfectly fine the day before, but I just dismissed it momentarily. I dug a little deeper into the world of silver nitrate only to find that it basically BURNED her perfectly healthy skin. Who knew that silver nitrate burns the shit out of healthy skin?! Well, I would have been aware of this side effect had I been fully informed before consenting to the procedure...Ahh, and there we are again with the informed consent thing. At any rate, Thursday, her belly button started oozing this yellow discharge, in addition to being red, raw, and slightly bloody in some areas that were raw. Now I'm starting to get really pissed, right? So I asked my girls on IMLM what to do, and it was suggested that I use hydrogen peroxide to help clear up the nasty. Well, this morning when it was still looking gross, I decided it would be best to put a call into the ped. They, of course, wanted to see Gen, and so I brought her in this afternoon. Doc says it's not infected (though that's probably because I treated it with the peroxide solution 50 times) and that it is impossible for them to get the silver nitrate ONLY on the affected area and so it burns some healthy tissue as well...Are you KIDDING ME?! Lesson here parents: ask to see the indications and the package insert before consenting to ANY medication or treatment for your kids (well, and yourself too). So now I'm supposed to put Desitin on this thing until it heals...Lovely, folks. Just lovely. MAN do I feel like a terrible mom. I never would have consented to torturing my baby unnecessarily...BOOOOOO for MDs yet again.