July 1, 2010 · 9:15 pm

I’m So Hungry

Let me just start off by addressing the drought. I haven’t posted in a while because I have been to the doctor about once a week for the past few months. If that’s not actually true, it feels like it.

I will keep it really vague for everyone’s benefit. No one really wants to know the details, trust me. It involves discomfort with my lady parts.

Because of the issues I’ve been having, I’ve had to make a drastic but temporary change to my diet. I can’t eat ANY sugar, white flour, potato products, dairy or anything remotely delicious for a little over two weeks. I can’t eat bagels or waffles or yogurt or sour cream or cookies of coffee creamer or bread or chips.

Now I know their are precious starving children around the world who would do anything to be punished with a steady diet of water, nuts, eggs, hummus, avocado and more hummus. But, as a registered dairy-addict, I am truly suffering. Besides that, I have no energy. I need sugars and delectible carbohydrates for my motor to run.

I never nap. I’ve got laundry and dishes and internet shopping to do besides all the vacuous reality shows I consume daily. But, I can’t make it through the day on low-carb whole wheat tortillas wraps and utterly plain and tasteless oatmeal. I’ve napped at least an hour each day this week while Lolo is down.

So, I put the call out to you. Anyone have any creative ideas on what I can eat? I have figured out some solutions for my meals. I had eggs, turkey bacon and a whole wheat english muffin for dinner but I can’t exactly take that to the pool for a snack. Have you tried any whole wheat snacks that have only 1 or 2 grams of sugar per serving? I need to dip something other than celery in my hummus at this point. As I told Mr. Banks, “I didn’t like celery when I was 4, and I don’t like it now. But, I have no other vessel for my bean dip. And, I have too much pride to eat hummus with a spoon.”

Seriously, I will take any food suggestions I can get!

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June 12, 2010 · 1:30 pm

A River Runs Through It

I was back and forth on what to do about getting on a plane with a toddler who was having 3 gallon accidents. In the end, she got on the plane Friday with diapers. And, she was happy about it. And, God, so was I.

The Wednesday and Thursday before the flight, I was obsessing and analyzing in my own patented way … calling everyone I knew who had potty trained someone … looking and begging for advice. My gut told me that she just wasn’t ready but my heart wanted to give her the chance to succeed. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation about how the undies had to go away for a while.

She was putting 100% of her poo in the potty, but the pee accidents were getting more and more frequent. She loved the fun part of potty training, real underwear, but hated the more mundane part, putting urine in the potty instead of continuing to play with toys. How boring.

The drop of pee that broke the camel’s back happened when I was outside on the phone having one of the above mentioned conversations. She peed on the sidewalk, watched it stream down her leg into a puddle and then got creative. She discovered she could make butt prints on the sidewalk by continually plopping her wet bum down.

So, after nap that day, I told her that it was okay if she needed to take a break from potty training. That she could wear diapers and still go to the potty if she wanted. It was okay to wear diapers and that the undies weren’t going away forever. That she could still get her potty rewards (like playing with her Tinkerbelle beauty salon set for 15 minutes every time she poops in the potty) and that undies are still in the drawer when she is ready for them.

And, what happened? She was a little bummed that she wouldn’t be putting on undies everyday but got over that in 3 seconds. She was dry for both plane rides. She asked to go to the potty before and after the flights and continues to put 100% of her poop and 75% of her pee in the potty.

She’s on the verge of making it happen but just needs a little more space and time to remember to ask to go pee. I know one day she is just going to wake up and tell me she’s done with diapers. In the meantime, I can put away the Martha Stewart carpet cleaner and drink my coffee in peace.

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May 29, 2010 · 1:38 pm

The Results

Somehow we made it through three days of potty bootcamp together and have re-entered society twice. I’ll admit, I thought I was going to lose my mind several times along the way. Not because of accidents or pee on the kitchen floor. It was the isolation. I felt trapped. The fact that all our carpets were covered by plastic tarps didn’t help with the sensation of mania either.

I see clearly the advantages of being in your home venue for 3 days, of having your child throw away all their diapers, of giving them the power to speak up by saying “Tell mama when you have to go poo or pee,” and of catching them in the act of accidents. It all makes sense. But good Lord, it’s mentally exhausting.  It was much easier to withstand when I was doing it for someone else’s kid as a nanny and 10 years younger. I will say that it does give you the fortitude to never go back, though. After Day 1, I was so happy to never have to do Day 1 again. On Day 3, I thought Day 2 was for suckers.

Back to the story. By Day 2 something had clicked. She had two pee accidents right off the bat in the morning but was clean and dry the rest of the day. (I overruled her decision to skip pull-ups at night for reasons of style and pride. She woke up in the middle of the night between Day 1 and 2 soaking wet and very upset. Changing sheets, blankets and pajamas in the dark at 4 a.m. won’t be happening again. I have, however, acquiesced and allowed her to wear undies and not pull-ups for naps. She’s been dry so far and I figured throwing a little confidence her way may help.)

Day 3 felt glorious in a shut-in, nut-house kind of way. Not only were we over half-way through the process, but she started telling me when she needed to go rather than me constantly asking her to tell me when she needed to go, over and over and over. I felt like an obsessive parrot who picked up a copy of this potty training manual and couldn’t let go.

As we closed down Day 3, I started to worry. What am I going to do tomorrow? There is no manual for the fourth day of this adventure. She didn’t have any accidents on Day 3 but we were always within 4 seconds of a bathroom. How do I leave her side, the house, the driveway?

And, then the reality of Day 4 came when she pooped in her undies right after breakfast because she was so engrossed in watching a guy mow his lawn outside. I realized that, no, I no longer have to carry diapers in my purse (hooray) but now I have to carry two outfits in case of an accident. I also just ordered a fold-able, travel potty for the car in case we are out at a park and nature calls. It will get easier, I know. The limbo period is what’s going to put me on tilt.

So, what does an All-American family do to get out of the house on the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend with a newly potty trained toddler? They go to IKEA where the bathroom opportunities are a plenty and no one will notice if you have to wipe up a puddle under your daughter.

The real fun will happen when I get on a plane with her on Friday.

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May 26, 2010 · 8:10 pm

30 Pairs

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Shopping List:

-30 pairs of “big girl” undies
-4 plastic tarps
-Stickers
-Gummie Bunnies
-High fiber snacks
-Big girl wipes

I’ve been earmarking this summer as the right time to potty train Lolo in between travel dates. When she hides under the dining room table each and every time she poops when we’re home, it’s time to put that recognition to good use. But, then I looked at the calendar and realized there is no perfect storm as we are in and out of town each month. With no time like the present, I dove into a potty training program recommended by a friend. (Extra Nugget: I’ve actually done a commando potty training program similar to this one when I was a nanny after college and it worked like a charm with Esther, so why not Lolo.)

I just finished Day 1 of 3, and I am about to pass out. The program requires you to be at home for three days straight doing nothing but paying attention to your child and catching them in the act of an accident … so you can race them to the potty … so they are getting that sense of urgency.

At lunch time, there was a pile of 7 pairs of wet undies on the bathroom floor. But, she was dry for her 3 hour nap (she rejected the pull-ups I bought because they weren’t panty-like enough) and then accident-free the rest of the afternoon. (Right now she is wearing Kushies Training Pants because they were better than a 72 cent piece of cotton standing between her and an entire night’s worth of urine.)

I know there will be many more ups and downs over the next two days and coming weeks, but I can at least scratch off day 1 and now fall into bed. I can still hear myself saying “Tell Mama when the pee pee is coming” over and over and over and over.

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May 18, 2010 · 2:08 pm

Denim Poopy Pants?

I was cruising through my local Target yesterday when I almost fell over on the way to the diaper cream. There was an end-cap  filled with a new line of diapers from Huggies. They’re denim diapers, and I can’t get the image out of my head. The little denim pocket, the printed pattern, the ridiculous rock-star marketing spiel. And, get this, they are touted as limited edition.

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I keep thinking I should have some funny quip about it. That I should have some point-of-view or opinion on the whole thing to wrap it into one hilarious package. But, all that I can come up with is the word that keeps flashing across my brain. L-A-M-E.

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Here’s what I got. I’m a suburban housewife who races around town with my reusable bags shopping for food, socks and value packs of paper towels. I get upset when we run out of something like sponges because who has time to run into a store  for three sponges? And, you think I’ll be lulled into a euphoria when you create a fashionable receptacle for my child’s pee and poo? Let’s be real. I may get excited about a sale on sponges, but not denim diapers.

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May 15, 2010 · 12:13 pm

Ewizabef and Kaferine

Her new princess influences. All things purple, pink, dancer and princess are precious.

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May 15, 2010 · 12:10 pm

High Tech

Life has been meandering along as we all wait for the CFA test day to arrive. Until we collectively become a chartered financial family, we have been enjoying the hilarious details of modern life.

1. She is obsessed with calling me “Mommy.” She hears all her friends calling their mamas by “Mommy” and thinks it is just so cool. She picked up a puzzle piece the other day and told me that “this puzzle piece is upset.” I asked why and she replied, “Because he wants his Mom and Dad to pick him up.” I said, “Oh, he wants his Mama and Papa?” She said, “No. Mom and Dad.” End of story.

It’s everywhere. In every storybook, it’s all about mommy and daddy and she knows it. Even though I insert “Mama” and “Papa” when I read her stories, none of her babysitters do on Saturday night. She’s got my number and the jig is up. All hope of being called mama can’t be lost though. I figure I have a tiny shot of being mama until kindergarten if I don’t let on to how much the sound of mommy irks me. If she figures that out, I’m sunk.

2. It’s a small feat but I just catapulted myself into the modern era by upgrading my cell phone from an old enV2 with a cracked screen to one that can access … (wait for it) … the Internet. It doesn’t mean that I have actually accessed the worldwide web though. I’m afraid. It’s too much, too soon. Such power and information at your fingertips feels so futuristic. I’m still infatuated with the touch screen. Plus, I know that once I start, I’ll fly right by my monthly megabyte limit so I’m saving it up for a Google emergency.

Who this really affects is my brother, he’s my poor man’s iPhone. I just call him when I’m lost in the car and ask him to use his iPhone in VA to look up directions for me up North.

3. Sit down. We bought a new TV. Yes, we upgraded from the $300 “flat screen” CRT which we bought the year we were married (2001) with an employee discount from Circuit City. (Figure that one out.) So really, it’s a $500 TV from 2001, a little less embarrassing, no?

The tube actually burned out while I was watching The Amazing Race and we couldn’t avoid replacing the dinosaur any longer. Hopefully this one will last another decade. I must say, it’s quite nice.

As he fell under the spell of the lit screen, Mr. Banks said, “It’s like we advanced 10 years in technology with one purchase.” I said, “It’s not like we did. We just did. That’s what happens when you keep a TV that long.”

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May 12, 2010 · 2:58 pm

Her First Poop Joke

I was changing her diaper first thing this morning as usual. I removed the 7 pound pee pee bomb and replaced it with a fresh diaper. As I was poised to place the diaper cream on her bum, she said, “Mama? You gonna put poo poo on my bummy?” She laughed heartily and I realized that telling poop jokes must be Chapter 2 in the handbook on how to be a 2 year-old. Right now, we’re still working through Chapter 1, “The Art of Whining”.

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April 26, 2010 · 8:42 pm

Domestic

I just had another domestic hot flash. After I dropped Lolo off at the childcare room at the gym, I hopped on an elliptical and tuned into one of the three palatable daytime shows on at 10am: The 20th Hour of the Today Show with Kathie Lee and Hoda, Good Day New York (which has actually made its way onto “The Soup” with Joel McHale for the utter nuttiness of it all) and dare I say, The Rachael Ray Show. I know it. Color me a housewife. Just throw in some “Juicy” velour sweatpants and a blackberry phone (wrapped in the hot pink rhinestones) and I am the picture of Northeastern, domestic, stay-at-home bliss.

But, I have to watch something while I sweat it out. My circa 2005 iPod mini is filled with kids music, so that’s not an option. Anyway. I’m there and I am switching around my three channels when I land on Rachael. Yes, she’s utterly annoying. The large head, the strained and screechy voice, the parmesan cheese being thrown everywhere all over the EVOO. The audience actually claps when she adds cheese or bacon to a dish.

She’s making a pasta entree (shocker) that actually looks quasi-appealing. I’m in a dinner-making rut and could use some inspiration.  This could be the dish that turns me around. I mentally earmark the recipe and decide I’ll give it a whirl.

I was utterly self conscious about shopping for the ingredients as if everyone in the produce department knew I was making a recipe that I saw on daytime television while I was at the gym while someone else was taking care of my child while I selfishly worked out.

I love what I do and wouldn’t trade it for the world. But it’s not really something you can talk about at a party when someone asks you what you do. Once you mention you’re a full-time mom, their eyes glaze over with disinterest. Visions of ice cream-stained sweatpants and lots of TV float through their head.

I take what I do very seriously and work hard at it. And, I mean “work hard at it” by more than lugging laundry and emptying the dishwasher. So, when my life veers dangerously close to a stereotype, my armpits sweat a little bit. It’s silly, I know. I herd a wild toddler by myself all week long and deserve 2 hours a week to watch ridiculous television without guilt on an exercise machine. I would just hate to get caught with a fresh manicure, bedazzled “Jersey Girl” tank top and a new tan and then have to defend my position.

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April 18, 2010 · 7:40 am

In The City

Evidence of our fun roaming the Upper West Side for three days.

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April 14, 2010 · 7:50 pm

Off the Grid.

“Should we take the wine into the bathroom?,” asked Mr. Banks last night at 8:30 pm.

The first night we were in the hotel, Mr. Banks had to stay late at the office so he didn’t get back to the room until Lolo was safely lulled into a deep sleep. In the meantime, I managed to entertain myself on the laptop in complete silence and darkness while she slept in her matchstick-sized hotel crib. (Bad mama. I didn’t bring the pack-n-play because there was just too much going on before we left the house in a mad rush. Yes, there is a reason every baby book says to avoid hotel cribs at all costs.) But, our system worked out great. Mr. Banks and I ate dinner in the dark but were able to have a conversation while she slept not 8 feet away from us.

Well, last night he arrived back to the room right as Lolo was saying “sweet dreams” at 7pm and she didn’t close her eyes until nearly 10pm. This city already has her blood pumping with energy and chutzpah. Knowing that Mama and Papa were so close to her and completely awake was just too much. She tried. She put her head down on the pillow for five minutes and then peeked out from the curtain I have draped around the crib with a devilish smile. For the next three hours, we tried everything. We ate in silence in the dark and reminded her that it was bedtime. We took our food and wine in the bathroom (oh yes we did) so she would settle down in peace. There’s a TV in the bathroom so it wasn’t all that weird. I tried to lay down with her in bed. Nothing worked. She played and sang for close to three hours, and I just kept reminding myself, “This is a vacation. It’s okay to go off schedule.” We opened the bathroom door at one point to see what she was singing and heard, “Shake you tail, flap you wings and stomp you feet!” over and over again.

Needless to say, she’s having a blast in the city and has adjusted to life quite well off the grid of our normal life. The entirety of our day is spent finding food, playing at the park and walking the dog in the park. Wash and repeat. She’d prefer if we could skip the walking the dog part but is content to watch a little extra TV each morning.

While it’s been an adventure and wonderful to see her excitement over the city, I’m looking forward to being able to heat food again.

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April 12, 2010 · 7:17 pm

Blanket of Lead

It’s as ominous as it sounds.

The neighbors directly next to us, which means 12 feet away, are having their house sanded down to the bone today before repainting. In a town where all the houses were built before 1930, this means there is a high probability of lead-laden, death dust. Of course, in the “panties-in-a-bunch” kind of town we live in, there are an abundant collection of laws related to this specific act of lead paint removal. And, by law, any house painting company has to tent the house being sanded with tarps, use HEPA-filter sanding machines, know all the state laws on lead paint, etc. But, that’s not good enough for me and my paranoia. They are also covering all of my windows with plastic, covering half the house in a giant tarp, and we’re evacuating the house for three days. (Yes, I inserted myself quite well into my neighbor’s home improvement project.)

Right now, I am sitting on my hotel room couch in the dark and typing this post while Lolo sleeps after a long day of establishing ourselves on the Upper West Side. Soon, I will fork over the $12.95 fee to connect to the Internet so I can keep my readers up to date on all our adventures like sitting down to a nice dinner at 5:30 tonight with Lolo, taking one sip of my wine and then hearing “I’m all done” after she had exactly one bite of her penne with meat sauce.

We hit the city just after lunch, sent Mr. Banks off to work, and didn’t stop until bedtime. If we weren’t walking and talking and looking for parks, we were walking the dog and relearning the art of getting an animal that hates the city to pee on cement. I’m consciously taking a lesson from my free-spirited daughter and learning to enjoy the ride. It’s not really a vacation but we’ve decided to treat it like one.

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April 5, 2010 · 6:23 pm

East-ah Bunny

“What is this mysterious bunny you speak of, Mama? All I have to do is believe in this miracle of rabbit, candy delivery, and a basket of treats will appear in my living room? And, I can eat candy for breakfast on Sunday morning? Show me the contract.”

The “East-ah Bunny” arrived Sunday morning and brought Lolo the original Connect 4 game (because it’s her favorite game to play at the library) and loads of sugar (and some Easter raisins). She held a fist of candy near her mouth as she asked if she could indeed eat candy in the morning so that if we said yes, she could get it into her mouth as soon as humanly possible.

This is what the beast looks like tamed, combed and washed …

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And, this is what she looks like when left to her own devices and free will …

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March 29, 2010 · 1:26 pm

28 Comments

Boo-yah! I received 28 comments on my “Jobless and Addicted to Mothering“ article that was published this month on Mamapedia. My regular readers have already read this post as it went live right here on “Stinkerbean” in January. But, somehow I inspired 28 women to submit comments. I got everything from kudos to advice on starting my own business to people imploring me to seek professional help … seriously. Not bad I say. And, it led to the busiest day on my blog yet. That means people other than my mom, Mr. Banks and Keren were reading.

See all the comments at the bottom of the article here.

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March 26, 2010 · 9:14 pm

Not Exactly A Trendsetter

My friend Keren e-mailed me an article from the New York Times about the new frontier of mommy blogging complete with corporate sponsorships, tons of swag and cross-country speaking tours. (Ok, ok. Yes, the article was published two weeks ago, but I’ve got a lot going on and my reaction has been slowly brewing.) I read through it twice and was scared out of my britches. It’s haunted me ever since.

(I cannot reprint the actual article here without inviting cease and desist papers from the NYT lawyers. But, you can click here to read it for yourself.)

I just felt so dirty after reading it. Yes, I do aspire to become a famous blogger. Yes, I secretly wish that I earned a hefty income and was written up for my witty and inspiring anecdotes. But, really, the potential fame freaks me out. It’s the reason I have never revealed my real name or location on my blog. I love to share bits and pieces of my life and hopefully entertain people, but the majority of my life is intensely private. I just don’t want my daughter’s upbringing to be a business. It’s an outlet for me to feel like a functioning adult who can still put sentences together in the first person and not the third. “Mama will do it for you. I know you want to do it yourself, but Mama has to help.”

(Don’t be fooled. I am sure I could find a way to maintain my dignity and still pull in an extra 40k for the household.)

The part of the article that really caught my eye was the bit about how one mommy wished it could go back to where it used to be 5 years ago when blogging was just about connecting and writing. No sponsors, or money or affiliations. And, I realized I am right on target with a trend finally. I took forever to buy whitening toothpaste, lagged on the skinny jean tip, never tweeted in my life, was the last woman on earth to purchase Uggs and just bought leggings for the first time 2 weeks ago for our Montreal trip. By the by, leggings are just thick tights and frankly, I was underwhelmed. If you wouldn’t feel comfortable walking around in a tank top and tights, don’t wear a tank top and leggings.

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March 26, 2010 · 12:34 pm

Attention Subscribers

Anyone … Anyone?

I don’t know if I have any subscribers but I thought it to be good form to announce a change in my right sidebar. To the right (now way at the bottom), you will see my old signup link called “Feed It” which apparently is no longer working. Dargh! Soon I will be deleting it but I wanted to give everyone a goodl old “heads-up” before doing so.

Thanks to Alexandra at “Good Day Regular People”, I am updating that broken link and inserting a fancier subscription link that should actually work. Simply look over to the right under “Subscribe” and click the “Yes! Feed me!” button. You’ll get an e-mail every time I post my genius thoughts.

So readers, subscribe at will and tell all your friends at Time Warner Media to do so as well.

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March 25, 2010 · 2:05 pm

Should We Do This In English?

Pure luxury. We escaped to Montreal minus the bean for an extended weekend (courtesy of Grammy and Grampy’s babysitting and dog walking services) and all we have to prove our “international” travel are 4 pictures of the Notre Dame Cathedral, numerous “slightly-Euro” gifts and a ridiculous new tolerance for alcohol. But that was the point. It was all about activities that had nothing to do with nap time, snack bags of cheddar bunnies or waking up before 7am. Well, I had a hard time sleeping in the first morning but I blame that on my insistent body clock. I quickly fell into line.

We walked, we shopped, we drank, we ate, and then we drank some more. It was beyond lovely and just the right amount of time away from home. Stinkerbean herself did great back home and only had a few sad moments of missing us. It was clear she was too busy having fun to lament our absence.

Thank you Grammy and Grampy. We couldn’t have done it without you. And, thank you Montreal for our new catchphrase, “Perfect,” and for schooling your citizens in English as well as French!

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Notre Dame Cathedral in Montreal, QC Canada.

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March 13, 2010 · 2:44 pm

Dance Party

Scene:

It’s 3pm and your toddler has decided to sleep for one, solitary hour. You’ve got two hours until “dinner” and there’s no way you’re trucking the whole kit-n-kaboodle to Target in the rain. That would require putting on real pants.

Solution:

It’s time for what Mama calls “Laptop Dance Party”. I’d forgotten about this band until one day when I was listening to my custom “Canandian Indie” station on Pandora. Instantly I sank into the time period 3 years ago when I was a working woman who lived on the computer. I abused fonts and Photoshop all day with my headphones burning my eardrums all the while, and I got paid to do it.

In any case, Lolo and I rocked it out to The Honorary Title’s “Bridge and Tunnel” and you should, too.

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March 10, 2010 · 3:56 pm

Finale

I realize I never updated the expanded Internet community on Lolo’s digestive system (which I talked about here and here). Last Friday it all came to an end and we were once again able to re-enter society. It was as if someone flipped the switch on her battery. One minute she was defeated and lethargic, and the next she was walking around wobbly-style requesting vast amounts of food. In fact she ate her way through the weekend and hasn’t stopped catching up on what she missed.

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March 2, 2010 · 11:21 am

Update: Saltines

Update on our Saltines Situation.

1. Mr. Stinkerbean got it and slept for 18 hours straight. (I’ve got to come up with a better codename for him. How about Mr. Banks? Does that make me Mrs. Poppins?)

2. I just found out from a friend who’s kid has the same EXACT thing and our same doctor that once the virus hits the lower G.I. tract (and you know what I mean by that), it can take up to 5 or 6 days to clear the system. I’m having flashbacks of the “Rotavirus Christmas” but somehow feel more prepared to handle it mentally.

3. You may wonder how I have time to post during this madness. Well, during the daytime, she doesn’t want to sleep by herself in her room. She wants to sleep “dahn-stahrs” with Mama. So, I sit with her on the couch and try not to make too much noise by her side. What better quiet therapy is there besides Internet crawling? Have you searched for herb gardens lately? They’re hard to find in a modern all white format.

4. One of the saddest parts is that Friday night we went out as a family for her 5 p.m. dinner since we’d been stuck in the house from the 12-inches of new snow. She was so excited to be out and about. Something had clicked with her about how babies are different than big girls and that big girls put all of their pee pee and poo in the potty. She felt it coming twice during the day and we rushed to the potty with success. Then, she felt pee coming at the family pub (a glorified bar with enough highchairs to accommodate a toddler at every table in the joint). Mr. Banks and I looked at each other frozen, silently asking, “Do we really let her do it here?” I jumped off the cliff of germ paranoia and let her sit on an actual bar toilet. How could I explain to her that potty training doesn’t apply to public restrooms? I sat there and let her revel in her potty joy as I trembled at the sight of brown, splatter stains on the tile walls. (In my mind I was already giving her a bath and wondering how soon a toddler can learn to squat over a toilet.) Fast forward to her waking up in her own vomit. When I picked her up, she started crying because she felt pee coming and she wanted to sit on her potty and not go in her diaper. She insisted, so I let her sit on her little toilet with a towel wrapped around her as she was throwing up in a trashcan. At least it brought her a little mental comfort.

5. I am now using rubber gloves to change her diapers to cut down on the erosion of my hands.

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