With vomit and poo, what's a girl to do

Lately, I've dealt with a ton of poo and a bucket of vomit. O'kay, I exaggerate. It was probably only a cup or two of vomit, but I'm standing by the ton of poo.


Please bear with me. Writing is therapeutic, but reading this may not be. Feel free to stop right now although I would like you to read the last paragraph. Thanks.


Jakey tends to be constipated ... all of the time. Well, until he isn't, and then watch out. We try to manage his meds so that it doesn't get too bad, but it's really hard to balance. Too much? Diarrhea. Too little? Oh, my. If it's been a while, he may have poo the size of an actual baseball or once it was slightly larger than a soda can. This is not exaggeration. Each poo is usually so big that we can't flush it (I am so sorry, Great Wolf Lodge). I feel for my poor boy. He will do anything to hold in a poo, and when stuff comes out. He wants it out NOW! So we have poo, BIG poo, on the ground because he does not like it in his pull-up. And, how does he get it there? With his fingers. So, now poo all over the fingers, hands, and (ugh) under the fingernails. But, he doesn't like poo on his hands so it ends up on his clothes, his body, whatever he is playing with at the time.


Now, please do not say that I need to watch him more closely. I do. He is incredibly quick. Amazingly so. And so independent that usually won't ask for help. Just takes care of it himself. Ah, poo!


Then there's poor Finn and his poopy pebbles. He really only likes to drink milk, and that's the side effect. Except for the other day when I brilliantly decided to give him pear juice. I was so excited that he liked it. While he was playing nicely, I changed Jakey's poopy pull-up. Never forgetting to scrub his hands, fingernails, sometimes legs, etc. Now, Dyson seemed to be licking something brown off of the couch. I scanned my memory. How? Jakey never touched the couch. Then ... OH MY ... Finny is jumping on the couch and with every jump, liquid poo squirts out of his shorts. That's what Dyson, the dog, was licking.


Now, I had a choice. Try to change him where we were or carry him to the bathroom and get poo all over me. I'm not saying that I made the best choice, but I really didn't want to get poo all over me. First, I kept him still while dabbing up the poo puddles. Then, I made an error. I laid him down to change his diaper. Liquid poo shot out the back of his diaper and formed a puddle on the couch. Yes, brilliance at work. I was finally able to clean him up with no mess by keeping him standing while I removed the offending diaper and wiped up the brown sheen covering him. Lots of cleaning after that ... Finn, the couch, me.


This morning I had to deal with vomit. Chunky milk vomit. Finny must have thrown up during the night and fell right back to sleep. All over his blanky, his bedding, his jammies, his hair. Poor baby. I felt so bad for him. He was fine though. Great time playing. Nice, long nap. Then, Mommy made another error. Oops. He loves to spin so I had him in a big toy tub and spun him around. He loved it until he didn't. Fortunately, it mostly ended up in the tub (still need to clean that out).


Back to non-bodily-fluid stuff ... Now, and extra dose of poo, but not the bodily kind. After a rollercoaster of a ride, we have been told that the iPad giveaway is bogus. It's all rather mysterious and weird. I don't think I have the whole story, and I'm too worn out to go into the details. I apologize if anyone gave money to Marissa's Bunny. They claim that they will return donations if asked. If they don't, please let me know, and I will see what I can do. Two of the families are doing what they can to make the best of this situation, please check out Little Wonders and Blogzilly for more details.

Two milestones

Last Friday, Finn had his appointment with the nutritionist. He is no longer being tracked on the preemie baby graph. He has moved to the typical baby graph. She also decided that he is ready for solids. Feeding him rice cereal is hilarious. With his excessive drooling, he ends up with more on him than I make. More of a learning experience than actual nutrition.

Tomorrow is a most important day. 10 years ago on March 16th at 8:28 p.m., Meghan Jessica entered the world at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue, Washington. She was 3.5 weeks early and weighed 5 lbs, 3oz. Born with attitude and hunger, we called her a suckerfish since she would eat or suck on a finger for hours. Meggy is enchanting and innocent, loving and troubled. She loves deeply and fears pain. She is the definition of someone who marches to their own drum, but still she wants to be accepted.

I remember the time that she decided she wanted to know more about Jesus. We had just turned onto Novelty Hill Road from Snoqualmie Valley. I explained everything to her. She wanted to pray, but not yet. Hours later at bedtime was her chosen time, and we did it together. Meg always does better no pressure and time to think.

She would rather play than talk, growl than cry, draw than copy. At times our home resembles Krakatoa erupting when we clash -- too often, I know. But, those other times ... Meg and I cuddle. She still calls me Mama or Mommy. We call her Baby; even her beloved Gima calls her baby. She doesn't flinch at the name but always responds. If someone adds an article, she will adamantly reply that she is not a baby. And, she's right; she isn't. But, she is my baby and always will be.