Oh Good. Poo.

August 15, 2012 By 3 Comments

Yes, I know I have two boys.

So therefor, by the laws of stereotypes, I should expect guns and Action Man and Ben 10 and fart noises and cowboys and cars and the like. So when I heard:

“Isaac! Go to prison! I’m going to poo on your face!”

I was a little alarmed, to say the least.

I didn’t bat an eyelid at first, but the poo obsession is ever lurking.

When Noah is taking a poop on the toilet, Isaac pretty much insists on lurking behind Noah, trying to see into the toilet while Noah backs one out. The intrigue and curiosity on his face makes me smirk a bit.

And of course it doesn’t stop there. If one of them is taking a dump, the other often requires a running commentary on what’s happening. Sometimes, quite literally, blow-by-blow (push-by-push) action.

“Is it coming out now?”

“No, it’s a bit stuck. And a bit spikey.”

“Oh. Do you need to push a bit harder?”

“Yes. And I think it’s going to smell.”

*sniffs* “Yes, it smells, I can smell it. Can you?”

And so on and so forth.

It’s a Stage They’re Going Through. I understand that. but I was hoping a) it wouldn’t happen for another few years yet, and b) that I would have carefully planned being able to deal with this until they’re about 20. Or until they get kicked out the house, whichever comes sooner.

Until then I’m going to continue trying to decide if I’m repulsed or amused by conversations which go

“Oo, oo, this poo is a bit soft. And fast.”

“Why is it fast?”

“I don’t know, but it just made my bottom wet.”

“Did it splash the water?”

“No. The poo was a bit wet. Does yours splash?”

“Sometimes, yes, and it tickles my bottom.”

For real.

Filed Under: Conversations, Isaac, Noah, parenting, Poopgate, pooping, Stuff to make you laaaauuuuuuugh

January 18, 2012 By

Ahhh. When you have kids, no one, NO ONE warns you of all the shit that awaits you on the other side.

Like, piles. And losing your sanity. And your missing pelvic floor.

And a hernia!

Yeah. A hernia.

I appreciate it isn’t a universal mothering thing. I also appreciate that two 11lb babies will WRECK YOUR INSIDES.

I don’t blame the boys.

Much.

I decided to ask Dr Twitter last night about hernias, *cough* for a friend *cough* (I think they were on to me), and had responses such as “l” and “” and also ““. I thank you, twitter, I love that you can always reassure me.

So after the peace of mind from Dr Twitter, the natural progression obviously was to go read up on Dr Google. And then I spotted stern warnings from and m which pretty much secured the deal of making an appointment with the doctor today.

The hernia thingy isn’t there all the time. Only, um, when I’m on the loo straining like a bitch. There’s nothing like squeezing like crazy and then suddenly having to pop a little bit of your insides back into where they should be. Whilst doing everything you can to not yell out in pain. (It’s a bit uncomfortable causing such alarm for everyone else in the house, and quite frankly, I’m not entirely happy having someone banging down the door while I’m on the crapper.)

My doctor is awesome. If she ever leaves, I suspect I may never go to the doctor’s surgery again. Previous experience with doctors has NOT made me feel good. Anyway, she had a poke around my stomach and congratulated me on fixing my diastasis recti (FUCK YEAH, no more pyramid belly for me). And then she poked a bit on the side and well, yeah, it didn’t look promising.

So! I have a hernia, though I don’t know which one because there are LOADS of them. It might be ok left alone, or I might be looking at keyhole surgery. There’s a consultant surgeon appointment winging it’s way to me in the next week or so, and an ultrasound scan to have a good look around. I’d rather not have surgery. I have no fear of going under the knife and all that (if they have to do open surgery), but I just can’t be arsed with even more scarring. My body is scarred enough as it is, and they are rubbish at fading. I have burn scars on my neck and arms which have been there for 32 years.

I really don’t want any more.

Vain? Yeah, probably. But what’s even bigger than worrying about scarring, is finding yet another something wrong with me. I’m tired of being broken, it’d be nice to be fully functional without assistance, you know?

Oh. How. Wonderful. *sigh*

 

Filed Under: Fucked-Up-Ness, illness, Mutha-Hood, Poopgate, pooping, , Ultimate Stresssss, wtf

A Whole New Poopgate

June 30, 2009 By Leave a Comment

Sometimes, when you’re sitting around and chatting, you say things which of course, you don’t mean literally. For example, “Slap my belly with a soggy cucumber and call me Terry McGee, I wish I had my own personal rain cloud so I could shower whenever I liked”.

So today, whilst sitting with Mrs. Nanny, Noah and feeding Isaac, Mrs. Nanny and I were talking about how well behaved Noah had been, and how his tantrums had been quite minimal, in comparison to the colossal earthquakes we’d been used to. I replied saying “Yeah, and I bet when you leave at 5:15, about 5 minutes later the shit will hit the fan”.
We laughed, we speculated, we joked some more. And at 5:15, Mrs. Nanny left, while I sat on the sofa nursing Isaac on old Lefty, with Noah cuddled next to me. Was so lovely.
5:20 Isaac finished feeding.
5:21 Isaac pulled a peculiar face and strained a little.
5:22 My right hip became very warm.
5:24 Still wondering whether what I thought had happened, had really happened.
5:26 Noah jumped up, signing for food and then suddenly pointed at the yellow trail of crap which was running between down the nursing pillow, across the top of my trousers and on to the sofa.
5:27 I pick up Isaac, still wondering what the fuck was going to be the best way to deal with the situation; he promptly barfs straight down my vest, into my bra, down himself, and over most of what we were wearing.
5:28 it on twitter. .
5:29 Noah signing frantically for food while also trying to drag the nursing pillow out of the room; the nursing pillow covered in Isaac’s fast moving, questionable smelling, very yellow crap.
5:30 Put Isaac in the changing table on his cot, somehow peeled off my vest and trousers, took the covers off the pillows, put Noah in his chair, heated up his tea (old fail-safe lamb and sweet potato with breadsticks), over heated it so he got impatient and was practically scream-signing for food (never seen a kid willingly smack his own face so hard).
5:32 Prided myself on getting reasonably sorted. And wondered whether I got some of the crap in my hair.* Noah started chowing on his food anyway (you know the boy actually says “nommm noommm nommmm” while he’s eating? Awesome).
5:33 Went back to Isaac, discovered he had barfed again, all over himself, the changing table and projectiled it into the cot. Changed nappy, changing mat, wiped him down fast as possible.
5:35 Called Mrs. Nanny and informed her of the good news, that apparently things CAN COME TRUE.
5:40 Cleaned up Isaac, put him on his front on the sofa surrounded by pillows (where he promptly barfed again). Grabbed the nursing pillow, went to the front door in my bra and pants, frantically waving at D (who at just pulled up on the drive) to get the fuck in the house as FAST AS POSSIBLE. Go upstairs to wash pillow in the bath.
5:50 Return downstairs to find Noah happily eating his tea, and D and Isaac sitting on the sofa deep in conversation like nothing ever happened.
It’s a good job I can take the shit with the cute, right?
*I still haven’t checked. I’m guessing no.
Filed Under: Code Brown, Isaac, Noah, pointless crap, Poopgate, The Nanny

40 and more

April 23, 2009 By Leave a Comment

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 40+2 days
Month: 10
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks
Time to Go: And already that’s not even funny any more.
Size: Roughly the size of the bull in the field opposite my house
Time til potential induction: 1 day. Hm.

And still going strong. Though I did have a Super-Poop yesterday, followed by contractions that were definitely worth writing home about. I would have been more excited though, had they been getting closer together rather than the sporadic random timing with which they presented themselves. Love to keep me guessing eh?? Thanks!

And of course, visit from AMW yesterday, who looked at me a little disbelievingly at the fact that I HADN’T GIVEN BIRTH YET. Yes lady, I’m still preggo, come join the party! She did, however, announce that the head is now 1/5 engaged (which basically means that it’s almost rammed into my crotch and ready to go). As a subsequent pregnancy, this can only be good news given that I’m told on a DAILY basis that subsequent babies don’t engage until the last minute.

Of course, one may need to define the meaning of “minute” to an unborn, cos clearly, some just don’t get it.

I obviously tried not to get excited last night, and found that it was actually quite easy to not get excited to be honest. I’m quite cynical at the moment about it all, and half expect to go into labour AFTER tomorrows meeting with the consultant. Which is fine; I know I went 3 days over with Noah, and according to the due dates at the hospital I am currently 40+1. Which is fine. If we were to go RIGHT back and go by “real” dates, I don’t think I’d actually be due until next Wednesday (which is even funnier and something not worth thinking about right now).

I guess it’s time to start walking. Cos you know, SPD + walking = AWESOME.

Incidentally, people, I WILL update when I know I’m on labour I can assure you. You’re welcome to follow my updates on  which will probably give the most up-to-date commentary I can do, or check my facebook page if you’re there and I’ll try to do the same there. Trust me, I don’t think I’m going to suddenly forget to announce I’m in labour and/or delivered a 27lb infant. Unless I’m truly drugged up of course.

Filed Under: 40 weeks, Midwife, Poopgate, pooping, SPD

Psychic Shmychic

April 22, 2009 By Leave a Comment

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 40+1 day
Month: 10
Trimester: 3
Fetus Age: 38 weeks
Time to Go: TODAY. Not tomorrow, TODAY.
Size: Bigger than me. Figure that out.
Time til potential induction: 2 days. Meh.

Sooooo….it turns out you REALLY can’t predict these things, huh?

Yes here I am, at 40 weeks and still pregnant. I’m now on my 2nd due date (the one that THEY use, even though they’re only a day apart). As far as I know, there is NO sign of this one coming any time soon. Sure, I’ve had ridiculous amounts of BH, I’m all pooped out I think for the first time (in a long time) I can say I’m all empty, I’m restless as hell and pretty much no longer have an appetite.

Most days are spent pacing up and down like some crazy restless woman, trying really hard not to feel sick all the time. I often feel like I’m about to lose my marbles and I’ve ONLY JUST hit due dates. SHEEESH.

So what happens now? Well AMW is coming this afternoon, where she might actually ask me why I haven’t had the baby yet (albeit jokingly…I hope…) and then ask how I feel about Friday’s induction.

How do I feel about Friday’s induction?

I danno. I don’t want an induction and will probably decline. They’ll probably want to do a sweep *shudder* because I know they’re shitting themselves even more than me about the size of this baby. But my reason for declining is logical from my point of view; if my body isn’t yet ready to push out a colossal baby and they started it anyway, would that not lead to more trouble? Do we not see a C-Section on the horizon?

Sure I’m uncomfortable, and appear to have developed Pregnancy Tourettes (randomly screaming “GET OUT” and “NOW, BITCH”, accompanied by the odd “DAMN YOU, CROTCH”), and SPD has reached hilarious new heights (current record – 15 minutes to maneuver myself out of bed), and, you know, I have no sanity left, but I have to remember to be very realistic about what my body is about to go through.

Even at this stage I see no point in downing pineapples/curries or even pineapple curries (lmao people, ya’ll funny), or indulging in some seriously uncomfortable sex (er yes hi, have you people SEEN me?), and even bouncing on the ball doesn’t seem to do much. T.O.O. is (apparently) 2/5 engaged and very rarely lies on my left (like it’s supposed to).

Ahw crap, and I thought Noah was defiant, this one is going to be a right little shit, for sure.

Sadly though, I’m prepared for the worst. I’m expecting to go into labour sometime next week, and end up having a section. Just cos, you know, The Law of Sod. which is a real shame. But we’ll see.

Filed Under: 40 weeks, Braxton Hicks, induction, Poopgate, pooping, pre-labour
« Older Posts