I get to leave work early today, so I asked my husband to drop off The Boy. I wanted to get to the office early and finish up all my month-end things.
Anyway, when he collected The Boy from school yesterday, he immediately checked The Boy's diaper, as I asked. The teacher was a little taken aback; she had just changed him, after all, and didn't understand why the child's diaper needed checking. My husband explained that I asked him to do it, and, upon opening the diaper, what do you think he saw?
Lots of powder. No A&D.
He asked why they didn't use any ointment, and she insisted that they did. He kindly informed them that we use more than that at home and that she needs to put more on The Boy. Which she did. And then Chris told her to put more. And then some more. And then a little more.
There. That's how much we use at home.
I'm picking him up this afternoon and will change him before we leave there. I'll see if he's got enough ointment on his bottom. And if he doesn't, I'll follow my husband's lead and camly remind them to use a lot of ointment on The Boy, especially when he has a rash, and show them how much to use if necessary. (I figure they should go through about 3 ounces of this stuff a week.)
Right now I just have to keep reminding myself that it will get better. After all, this morning's diaper change was less of a struggle than yesterday's. And, truth be told, his bum doesn't look nearly as bad as it did from other diaper rashes (like last week's or any of the ones that accompanied his stomach bugs). So, it is getting better.
Slowly.
]]>I don't think there's a word that accurately describes my mood. "Livid" is the closest that comes to mind, but even that seems very tame by comparison.
So, what is it that has upset me greatly?
Ugh! Where to begin...
My little boy has sensitive skin. He always has. When he was four months old, he reacted so sharply to wheat proteins in my breastmilk that he broke out into a terrible rash all over his body. The doctors said the proteins aggravated his eczema, and I was put on a very strict diet. (I later learned it was wheat causing all the problems; prior to this, it was a mystery and I couldn't eat anything.)
Since he was two days old, I've used A&D on his bottom. Before that, we used Vaseline in the hospital (but that was more for the circumcision than anything). And he only got diaper rashes during stomach bugs and teething spells, all thanks to the accompanying diarrhea.
The Boy has also been in daycare since he was two months and six days old. (Yes, I know the exact date he first went to school. It's permanently etched into my brain.) The entire time he's been there, I've provided his diapers, his wipes, his ointment, several changes of clothing, and, until he transitioned to the Toddler level, his food. (I still provide his proteins on the days they have fish and snacks on days they're eating oats.)
Ever since the transition to the Toddler level, The Boy has had a diaper rash. Sometimes it's worse than others, but, just as his doctor says, when I see to it that he's properly cleaned and sufficiently coated with a thick layer of A&D, the rash clears within days. It's aggravating (and heartbreaking) to send him to school Monday morning with very little to no diaper rash, only to see it reappear and worsen during the week. This past Friday was the worst. When I changed his diaper on Saturday morning, his bottom was so raw, it was bleeding. He also had a rash on his scrotum, the poor kid. The bleeding was finished Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday evening, the rash was gone from his scrotum and almost gone from his tush. I wrote a note for the teachers (and verbally informed them, too) letting them know that he has a bad diaper rash, and they will need to use extra A&D on him. And, oh, by the way: Here's an extra tub.
Last night, Chris told me that one of the teachers said I need to start using Desitin on my baby's bum. Yes, I know it has zinc oxide, and, yes, I know the medication will help soothe the rash. But it's not going to keep the rash from coming back!
This morning, The Boy pooped en route to school. I signed him in, then proceeded to change him. Oh, what a nightmare.
First, the wipes that I brought suddenly went missing. Last week, I brought in two packs. One was used (I get that), but the other is nowhere to be found. The teacher told me that it must have been used and - didn't she tell me I needed to bring some in on Monday? Never mind the head teacher told her (and me) that there were still some in the cabinet. I still should have brought in wipes for him. (Note to self: bring new package of wipes each Monday along with 30 diapers and see how long it takes before said teacher tells me to stop bringing things for him.)
Second, the A&D tub I gave them two months ago is still not empty. How is this remotely possible? I go through one of those a month - and that's if I'm going easy on the stuff! That first tub wasn't even full when I gave it to them. To be fair, of course, it looks like there's about a day's worth of changes left in it. Well, that's if they use as much as they ought with each change. If they use as much as I suspect they do, it would probably last them another week.
And last - what is it with the Desitin? To hear these teachers go on about it, you would think I was the worst mother in the world for not using it on my child! Never mind that not one medical professional has ever told me that it's the best thing to use (they've never said it was bad, either). I've been told Boudreaux's Butt Paste is a much better product than Desitin (and I'm not opposed to getting this for him, either, since it was highly recommended by two pediatric nurses) - it contains zinc oxide and is much easier to wipe off. But his doctor said A&D is just fine - and a little bit of cornstarch to make sure the skin is nice and dry coupled with a thick layer of A&D is all my baby needs to keep his bottom nice and rash-free.
So, the teachers are going on and on about the Desitin, and one of them pulls out this card: "Do you know Ms L? She's a retired pediatrician. Talk to her, and she'll tell you he needs Desitin."
And I'm thinking to myself, "Funny you should mention her. She was one of The Boy's Infant teachers, and I still talk to her several times a week." So, I agreed to speak Ms L, and I silently resolved to do whatever she suggested.
Well, you know what Ms L said when I told her this story? Well, first, she was outraged. No one, and I mean no one, treats one of her babies' bums like that! She was so upset hearing about his chronic diaper rash because he almost never had diaper rash problems under her watch. And then when I told her that they said I needed to get Desitin for him, she was incredulous. "He don't need Desitin," she said in her broken English. "They need change him - a lot - and put Vaseline or A&D." She shook her head and repeated, "He don't need Desitin. Don't worry. I go talk to them on break and say he need clean and change a lot - every hour if need!"
Then she and Ms. A (both of The Boy's Infant teachers) told me to have Chris occasionally spot check The Boy's diaper when he picks up The Boy in the afternoons and make sure (a) it had recently been changed and he was clean and dry and (b) they put lots of goop on his bum. And if they don't? "He needs to speak to the director," Ms A said, forcefully, "and tell them it's not right that the baby gets home with a bleeding bottom because they aren't changing him! The A&D is enough protection and all he needs! You're a good mom, one of my best here. And he doesn't need anything else." Then Ms A lowered her voice and said, "Make sure your husband tells them, because he's a man and they'll listen to him. With you, they just think you don't know."
I love his old teachers.
According to the sheets they send home each day, it looks like he gets changed frequently enough. But neither Chris nor I think those sheets are entirely accurate. One of my coworkers said I need to take inventory of his diapers at the start of each week and see if the numbers add up. I think I'm going to start doing that. After all, if they're sending home sheets that say he gets 4 to 5 diaper changes a day, my pack of 30 diapers should only last a little more than a week. And if the numbers don't add up, well, it means they're either "growing diapers" (as one of the ladies in Finance says when someone is showing a drastic negative shrink) or not changing him as frequently as they say they are.
If that's the issue (which I really hope it's not), it needs to get fixed immediately. In the meantime, I can only hope that they'll listen to Ms L, change him frequently with a thick layer of ointment, and quit making me feel like I'm to blame for his diaper rash because I'm not using Desitin!
]]>The Boy had a mysterious redness around his right eye and on his red cheek this morning when I took him out of the car. Thankfully, his former Infant teachers let me bring him to their classroom and hang out with him for a while to see if the redness cleared (which it did). Lord knows I had no desire to schlep him back home and to the doctor for what would ultimately be no reason.
It's the strangest thing, and this isn't the first time this has happened. He had a healthy breakfast this morning of peaches, milk, and a bit of breastmilk. I didn't even offer any of the blueberry muffins he greedily devoured the previous morning. And when we left the house, he was perfectly fine - no redness, no rashes, nothing. But when I got him out of the car, half his face was just, well, really pink.
Anyway, I dropped him off in his classroom (one of the Directors even saw him and just remarked how adorable he is - no mention of the pinkness, thank God) and no one made any mention of it there, either.
I just don't know what could possibly trigger what is ultimately a temporary reaction.
]]>I dropped off a very unhappy little boy this morning. In fact, as soon as we got into the classroom, he started to scream in terror and cling to me for dear life. He settled down a bit while I was signing the roster sheet (still holding him, mind you), only to freak out again when one of the teachers reached out to take him from me.
I have my suspicions of the cause of this, aside from the common separation anxiety. Lack of Mommy-time combined with a little cold and generally not feeling too great equals an unhappy baby.
Yesterday, I left work early after vomiting in the bathroom. Thankfully, I made it to the bathroom in order to do it. I cleared off my desk, told my boss I just threw up and needed to go home, and rushed home to my bed (which is not too far from the bathroom, thankfully). I don't know how many times I puked; I just know it wasn't a good scene.
I took The Boy to the doctor yesterday afternoon, and Dr W took a look at me, too. The Boy and I both have colds, and he's getting over the stomach bug that he just gave me. Oh joy, joy, joy. After the appointment, I drove home, called my husband to come out of the house and collect The Boy from my car, and rushed to the bathroom before going to bed. So The Boy did not have any Mommy-time last night (and the fact that I heard my husband tell him "Mommy doesn't want you in there" probably didn't help matters much).
We were fine this morning at the house. He woke up (on his own - I was in no rush to get out of bed this morning), and we cuddled and chatted for a little while before I changed his diaper (poopy - no diarrhea - but still a bad diaper rash) and dressed him in his clothes for school. Before breakfast, we played for a bit (his new favorite toy is an empty paper towel tube), I tried to teach him the word "egg", and he took out all his books from his bookcase. (I was in no shape to try and stop him.) Then, after a hearty breakfast of yogurt, Pirate Booty (because he has suddenly decided not to eat bananas), and a few sips of milk, we piled into the car and were on our way.
He was in such good spirits during the ride over. He pointed out the window and chatted about the things he saw (none of which I, of course, understood), and was otherwise in a great mood. He protested when I tried to clean his face before taking him out of the car, but even when we were on our way to the classroom, he seemed perfectly content.
But the moment we set foot into the room, he burst into tears. I felt so bad.
Even worse is that I'll need to stay late tonight to finish up month-end reporting. I only hope he'll forgive me in the morning!
]]>I really don't want to be one of those mothers (you know, the kind who think they know better than anyone else), but I have to vent about one of the parents in The Boy's (now old) class.
Let me start by saying I think all children are born perfect. Whatever bad habits they may have later in life are picked up from those around them. I don't think there is or has ever been a newborn who deliberately works to vex his/her parents. Seriously.
That having been said, I believe we, as parents, are largely responsible for our children's bad actions. And our reactions to different situations are templates for our children to follow, as well.
Now onto my rant.
B is about two months younger than The Boy. He's a cute little kid, very bright-eyed, intelligent, and quite precocious. He used to be quite charming, but as he's gotten older (and shouts "No!" - very clearly - every chance he gets), he's lost a bit of that charm. Not that he can't get it back, mind you. He just needs to be reined in a bit.
B's mom is, well, let's just say not PLM (People Like Me). She's loud, brash, and pays no heed to current conventional childrearing wisdom. By that last I mean she started B on table foods at 3 months (not just baby food jars, mind you), has had him solely on whole milk since 8 months (yes, he was drinking cow's milk before I even started slowly introducing it to The Boy), and, most recently, has decided that B's current case of thrush is really no need to go to the doctor. Never mind that this is contagious, never mind that he's at an age where he wants to put everything in his mouth, never mind that there are seven other kids in that room who also want to mouth everything. He's also apparently not eating as much as he used to, which would totally be a red flag for me. Because the school isn't mandating that he be kept away from children until the thrush is gone or he is no longer contagious (which I don't get because if The Boy merely spits up I get a call and have to rush him to the doctor, but that's another story altogether), B's mom doesn't feel it's necessary to take him to the doctor!
Then it begs the question of whether this child even has his own doctor. The school only cares about immunizations, and those you can get through WIC, so, I don't know. And his case of thrush is so bad, it also makes me wonder if she even brushes this kid's teeth. [sigh]
Oh, yeah - and she refuses to put any creams or ointments on B, even when he has a severe diaper rash, because of his cloth diapers. And I know (because I've researched it before making the partial switch) there are a number of diaper rash creams that are suitable for cloth diaper use. She could also use a flushable liner, as we do, and use as much A&D as necessary. But I digress.
When the teacher told me about B's thursh issues and her confrontation with B's mom this morning, I was so glad that The Boy had spent most of this week in the Toddler Wing. And as much as I'll miss the teachers and seeing some of The Boy's other classmates, I'm also glad he'll be in the other classroom full-time on Monday.
I can only hope B doesn't follow him into the same class in two months.
]]>We got a letter in the mail last night from The Boy's school. It was a congratulatory letter, letting us know that he is progressing very well and will be transitioning to the Toddler classroom on May 5.
No more baby. He's a full-fledged toddler.
This morning, I visited what will be his new classroom, and I spoke with one of the teachers. I had already met her when she was visiting some of the children in the Infant Wing, so I was familiar enough with her. We talked very briefly about what The Boy will be doing and what I can expect, and I was relieved to know that he won't need to fully transition to the hard-spout sippy cups for a few more weeks after transitioning. It was also nice to see a little girl in this new class who transitioned out of The Boy's current class about six months ago; he'll at least see a somewhat familiar face.
One thing I know is that I'll need to be a bit more vigilant about his diet when he gets to the new classroom. He still has problems with oats, and most of the morning and afternoon snacks they offer have oats in the ingredients. And since I'd really rather he eat more fruits and vegetables throughout the day (instead of only at lunch), I'll happily provide bananas and the like for him to eat. Plus, his doctor recommended holding off on even watered-down juice until he's at least two to ward off a sweet tooth and ensure he gets adequate fiber in his diet. Oh, and Dr. W also advised keeping him away from seafood for another couple of years because of my own allergy to shellfish. When I was a wee girl, I would have violent allergic reactions to any kind of seafood, and I'd rather not go through something similar with The Boy.
So, the gradual transition process begins next week, and he'll be there full-time beginning May 5. (Happy Cinco de Mayo! I wonder if they'll serve margaritas...) They do a gradual transition so it's not such a shock for the kids, and for that I'm grateful. I know that some of the other kids have cried and cried during the transition process, and I'm seriously hoping that The Boy will be okay. When I took him into the Toddler class this morning, he was very interested in looking at the kids and seeing what they were doing, but, of course, I was there and holding him the whole time, so it's not like he was on his own.
He'll also be going out to the playground twice a day every day, which will mean daily sunscreen application and daily baths. At least he likes taking baths, so that won't be an ordeal. Sitting still for sunscreen, though, is an entirely different story. He'll be allowed one nap per day at a pre-determined time (just after lunch, I think), but I didn't find out if they limit his napping time. Sometimes he'll nap for 15 minutes, but he might also stay asleep for three hours. It depends on what he feels like doing.
Oh, I have a strong feeling this transition process will be much tougher on me that it will be on The Boy.
]]>The Boy awoke this morning at 4:45. I shouldn't complain; he only woke at 8:45 last night (just before I jumped into the shower), went back down at 9:30, and slept until almost 5 o'clock. But 4:45 in the morning is still way too early for me.
Anyway, this early awakening meant an early start to our day. After some quality time playing with Daddy and a flashlight and a much-needed diaper change, I fed him a hearty breakfast of yogurt, applesauce, and Corn Chex. He then had the opportunity to roam the house and play for about an hour before I took him to school.
Apparently, roaming the house and napping in the car en route expells enough energy that one - who was well-fed just before leaving the house - might suddenly have a concave belly upon entering the classroom.
Such was the case with The Boy. I packed cheese and crackers to give him for a snack, and he eagerly attacked the cheese with a ferocity I had never before seen. Honestly, you'd never guess he had just eaten breakfast a mere two hours prior.
One of the teachers in a different classroom brought in some miniature muffins, and his primary teacher asked if The Boy could have one. I sampled one, decided they would pose a low risk for allergies, and offered him half of a mini-muffin top. As you can guess, the entire piece went into his mouth (and The Boy begrudgingly washed it down with some formula soon after). I broke apart the rest of the muffin into pieces and set them on the high chair tray.
Another little boy in his class, B, was sitting in the high chair next to him, also enjoying a muffin. His muffin, too, was broken into pieces for him, but B is simply not as neat of an eater. So, while The Boy had finished his muffin and returned to his cheese and crackers (the cheese, of course, being the more desirable of the two), B's muffin was in tiny crumbs strewn all over the tray.
Upon seeing B's tray, the primary teacher exclaimed, "B! What did you do to your muffin?" The Boy craned his neck to look at B, saw B pushing muffin crumbs around the tray, and gave B a look that clearly said, "What's wrong with you? That's a waste of a perfectly good muffin," before shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.
If it's at all possible, interactions like these make me love The Boy even more!
]]>Baby C had a fire drill at school this morning. I was there to witness it, as I was midway through my morning drop-off routine. It was really neat to watch; his teachers collected all the kids (6 total this morning), put them into 2 rolling cribs, then wheeled them out the fire-escape door. Within 30 seconds of the alarm going off (no kidding - I looked at the clock), all 6 kids were outside and all was well. It was pretty amazing, and I was assured that my baby is in good hands.
And my brave little boy wasn't fazed one bit. He just lay in the crib, taking it all in...
]]>As difficult as it is to leave Baby C at school each morning, I'm very glad that I went back to work as early as I did. I'm also very glad Baby C is already accustomed to having other people watch him during the day.
When I dropped off Baby C at school today, there was a little boy, probably about 10 months old, standing in the crib next to Baby C's crib. He was crying - sobbing, really - and my heart just broke. I said to him, "Hello, there! I don't think I've met you before!" The teachers told me his name was M and that today was his first day. I continued talking to him. "M, you're doing just fine. This," I said, holding up Baby C, "is C. Hopefully you guys will be able to play together."
Baby C was blissfully asleep this whole time. I put him down in his crib, at which point he opened his eyes and began to fuss. When this happens, I turn on the mobile over his crib, then tell him where I'm going and what I am doing, and he settles down. It takes all the willpower I can muster to keep from scooping him up again, but I know it's a necessity. Today, he was staring at the turtle.
Once Baby C quieted down, I took his bottles to the refrigerator and put them away. One of the teachers took M out of his crib, and he walked over to me, still sobbing.
"Oh, M, are you having major separation anxiety?" One of the teachers nodded knowingly, and M - without any prompting - crawled into my lap and put his arms around me.
Now, M looks nothing like me. Baby C only resembles me in passing, and he's even got my dark hair and brown eyes. M is a little blond boy with bright blue eyes and hardly any hair whom I think looks more like our friend Lipman than my husband. But needless to say, M gave me a hug and, when I hugged him in return, stopped crying almost immediately.
"You just want to be held, don't you?" I said, releasing him so I could stand up, and the water works began once more. "Your mommy will be back," I assured him. "It may be a while, but I promise she will be back."
And as I made my way back to say goodbye to Baby C (still studying the turtle on his mobile), it dawned on me once more how sweet my little boy is. He doesn't cry unless he needs something, and even then, I think he knows his needs will be met. At times, I wish he would miss me a little bit more, but when I walk into the room and his whole face lights up when he sees me, I know he's happy to see me. And after seeing poor little M today, I'm suddenly grateful that Baby C is as confident as he is.
Let's just hope this continues on into adolescence.
]]>I'm not a perfect mother. I don't think I even come close. I'm trying so hard to just get by each day, I congratulate myself if Baby C and I make it out of the house in the morning with both of us wearing socks (unless I'm wearing sandals, that is).
One thing I don't like, though, is hearing my baby cry. Now, a little bit of fussing is fine, if it sounds like he's try to reach for something, pull/push himself into position, relieve some gas, or poop. And there are other times when I can tolerate his fussing. But it absolutely breaks my heart to hear him wail, especially when he's crying because he's hungry.
When I drop Baby C off at school each morning, I have a bit of a ritual. I carry him into the room, then put him in a swing or bouncy seat so I can check him in. The teachers are usually trying to calm crying babies who are, by the sound of their cries, starving. (Baby C makes those cries, too, and it's usually followed by such vigorous sucking that you'd think it had been three days since he last ate, not three hours.) Baby C will sit there, sometimes quietly and sometimes talking to himself, observing the other kids. I'll talk him through my routine ("Mommy is signing you in now. You woke up at 6:30, you last ate at 8, and you last had your diaper changed at 7:30 - and what a poopy diaper it was!"), occasionally looking over at him to return his smiles. After I sign him in, I check his supplies ("Oh, we're running low on diapers!"), put away his food for the day, then store the messenger bag we use for his school supplies so that Chris can grab it in the afternoon. And throughout all of this, Baby C is patiently waiting while some of his classmates are wailing.
On occasion, Baby C will start to cry before I leave because he's not quite full, and I'll pick him up, find a chair, and feed him on the spot so that he's got a full belly before I leave. And if he poops before I leave and I can see the teachers have their hands full, I'll change his diaper, too. I figure it's the least I can do.
One of his teachers told me this morning how much she appreciates that I make sure Baby C is fed, dry, and comfortable before I leave. I explained that I like to make sure he's happy before I leave. It's much easier, after all, to leave Baby C when he's quietly sitting in a swing and observing the room than when he's crying frantically and inconsolable.
But I have to confess I go through this ritual each morning in hopes that, in the afternoon, Chris will find him in the same state that I left him: with a full belly, a clean diaper, and a good disposition.
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