How easy is it to use an iPad?
Baby steps, people.
In the war that is getting toddlers to eat (its surprisingly hard sometimes), everything is fair game. So if I give my kid V8 Splash because it has a serving of both fruit and vegetables? I’m calling it a win. Besides, I dilute the crud outta that stuff.
Also, there will be some days when your child wants pancakes for breakfast, lunch, a snack, and very likely dinner. And won’t eat anything else. Every once in a blue moon, give yourself a pass. Just brush their teeth REALLY well later that night.
Every parent has a diaper bag. Or, if you’re me, you have THREE. Imagine my husband rolling his eyes. Multiple times. Then shaking his head. Why on earth would I have three diaper bags? Because I’m neurotic and it makes sense to me. Two live exclusively in the cars. I call them the emergency bags. The third lives and goes with us everywhere.
But back to the bags: They function like a purse, your life goes into it. But what actually has to be there? It depends. Here’s what’s in my bags:
Emergency diaper bags (One in each car):
Call me crazy if you want, but these bags have come in handy. I’ve dipped into them to use sunscreen when I forgot it at home, lost a pacifier on the road, ran out of infant Tylenol while visiting family, and when the Super Spouse had a monster headache and stomach ache at a family party. Just remember to swap out the diapers, spare food, water, and formula every 6 months or so. (Swap the diapers when the oldest child outgrows them. You can always put the smaller kid in the biggest diaper, but it doesn’t work the other way around.)
The Take Everywhere Diaper Bag:
On the weekends, the diaper bag doubles as my purse. Another thing to consider is that you will be schlepping this around with one or two kids at the same time. Because of this, I’m rather partial to backpack-style bags. Or at least ones that have straps that will cross your body.
I’m still working on it, but will eventually move all my cookies over here and get going. Until then, I leave you with this pearl:
If you must leave home with only one size of diapers, make sure it fits the biggest kid.
The demon contraption as my OBGYN called it, is out! Hooray!
And can I just say that I love that woman? She is so freaking fantastic. As in, listening to what I’ve been going through and saying: Really? Well. You want the evil, demon contraption out then, yes?
I love people who make me snicker.
Also, it was out in like 10 seconds. I appreciate efficiency like that, cause I hate the cold duck-bill thing. I didn’t even have time to answer her question about how the kids are doing and she’s snapping off the gloves and throwing her hands up like she just finished roping a calf in the rodeo. All done!
So now I get to be on the Pill again. And hopefully back to normal. Also, all the crazy periods/gushing craziness may mean that I’m slightly anemic right now.
So I’m on a Pill that is good for that type of thing, apparently. I’m also supposed to eat iron-rich foods (note to self: look up iron-rich foods), and “double up” on my pills for 4 months, which means no periods for 4 months! Yay! Why did the doctor tell me to double up? Because no bleeding = no losing iron.
And right now, I am ALL about not losing iron.
So I’m totally over the IUD-thing. I’ve decided: I’m a Pill girl. Yup. I love the Pill. The Pill? She is my friend. The IUD? She’s a bitch on wheels. OK, she makes me a bitch on wheels. For exactly one week every month. The bitch.
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.
Now that I’ve cleared that from my system … let’s recap: I got the IUD because I was breastfeeding and didn’t want to get pregnant again. Being that I got pregnant while on the mini-pill and breastfeeding, I thought I was darn smart for getting the copper, 10-year, hormone-free IUD. Besides, before I went on the Pill in my 20s, I had about 4 periods a year, they were pretty light, and I barely cramped or had acne because of it.
Flash forward: After my cyst removal (and IUD insertion), my milk dried up and I had to put Allie on formula anyway. My whole reason for getting the IUD — not being able to be on the regular Pill — is now moot.
I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to discuss taking (or actually taking, I’m not entirely clear on that part) the damn contraption out. Because I’m so very done. Mayhaps I should explain? Yes?
When my doctor put it in, she said, and I quote:
You may experience bad cramping and heavy bleeding the first two months or so. That’s normal. But if this persists for almost six months, you need to call me because that means your body is rejecting the IUD. Meaning that it is trying to FLUSH it out of your body. Again, CALL ME if this is happening and we’ll take it out.
The first two months? Let’s just say I thought I was going to die. Seriously. Outside of the cramps, (which rivaled early labor pains, by the way) I have never, ever, had to buy “ultra super” tampons before. Never even knew they existed. They do. And you know what? I was changing them every 30 minutes – 1 hour. Oh yeah. In addition, I had two gigantic overnight pads strapped to my underwear and I might as well have been wearing diapers. (So sexy, btw) And yet I bled through all of them: The ultra super tampons, the two ginormous overnight pads, my underwear, and through my regular pants. Twice. I was scared to sit anywhere but my kitchen chairs because I was afraid I’d leak on them. I slept on top of a beach towel folded in half.
It was ridiculous. Horrific. “Carrie” had nothing on me.
It was so bad that I could feel when I had to change the tampon, if you know what I mean. No? I could feel the blood squishing around the tampon and gushing onto the pad.
And that’s just the period part. Factor in the aforementioned phenomenal cramps, crazed psychopath it made me, along with the increasingly frustrating acne (really?!) and yeah. Here I am — and although it is marginally better than those first two months, it’s still a freaking roller coaster that I have absolutely no desire to ride anymore.
Here’s how it’s better: This weekend, I had to hand Allie to Jason really quick. As I practically dropped her into his lap, the only thing I could manage was “I’m gushing” as I ran for the bathroom. I vaguely remember his face turning white and his eyebrows going up in disgust/sympathy/why did she tell me that? horror.
Before: By the time I got to him to hand Allie off? There would be blood pooling in my jeans and I would have had to say “Take her so I can go change.”
So yeah. Doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I want this thing out and I want to get back on the Pill instead. I miss her.