How to Make Sure Your Child is Never Potty Trained

So I have this really spanky Baby Bjorn potty chair for Eliza:



It has this little insert that comes out so you can properly clean said potty chair after it has been used. Eliza in the past has enjoyed using this insert as a cup during shower time (rest assured she had never peed in it prior to using it as a cup):




Recently Eliza has made a few half-hearted attempts to pee in the potty. Tonight Eliza decided that the pink part would look very nice as a hat:





Notice the look of abject terror as Miss Eliza realizes that her potty hat was indeed stuck on her head.

Yup, that thing was stuck and stuck good. After twenty minutes of trying to extricate Eliza's head I was starting to think I'd either have to call the fire department for the Jaws of Life or amputate one of her ears.

Luckliy the ears and potty chair survived the incident. I am however fairly convinced that Eliza will never sit on this thing for fear of what it might do to her hind end!

Bag of Bones

I was really torn between titling this post "Bag of Bones" or "People are Asses." Since I figured the word "ass" in the header might offend some people of delicate sensibilities right off the bat, I went with the former title.

So yesterday I was in Talbots returning a pair of slacks that were too big (you'll see the irony of this in a minute). While I was checking out, Eliza decided to decorate the front of the counter with her "Winn- Pooh" stickers. After apologizing for the toddler graffiti, two of the clerks came over to help me get the stickers off at which point they got a close look at Eliza. They both proceeded to exclaim "Oh my god, what a bag of bones she is" and "she looks like a stick figure." This was followed by a handful of other equally unsolicited comments on how skinny Eliza is. Although unusual for me, I walked out without saying anything. And stewed for the next day and a half.

Then I went back.

I found the two clerks and asked if they remembered me and they didn't (no one ever remembers the brown haired girls). But when I asked if they remembered the "bag of bones" their memories perked right up! More comments on Eliza's skinniness ensued. I asked them if they had any kids and as luck would have it they both did. So I asked if their kids were perfect. This was met with very, very blank stares. They asked what I meant and I said "well are your kids fat, bald, do they have flat heads, big noses, crooked teeth, anything along those lines?" They both conceded to having "chubby kids" and one admitted to her son having a bit of a flat head. I do believe they thought they were on a game show at this point since they were all smiles. Then I asked "so you you would be OK with me calling your child "tub of lard" or "flounder head?" No laughter at all. I asked if they thought my comments were cute or funny? No ma'am. They thought I was rude and abrasive. My point exactly! But when I asked them if they thought their comments about Little Miss Bag of Bones were abrasive, they actually insisted that calling a skinny kid names wasn't nearly as bad as calling a fat kid names because they "meant well" and "it's not really a criticism when you point out that someone is skinny." Huh? I mentioned that the bag of bones comment is not too welcome when your kid is skinny because of a feeding disorder, then left them to ponder whether they will increase sales at Talbots if they continue to critique the size of the customers' kids.

So I guess the lesson is that it is OK for someone to comment if your child is noticeably underweight but let's just not go there if someone's child is noticeably overweight. Go figure.

And to clarify:

This is a Bag of Bones:



This is Eliza:

These Boots Are Made For Walking

Have I mentioned to you that this kid can walk? And walk. And walk. And walk ...

Eliza has decided that her beloved Bugaboo stroller which has been our primary means of transport throughout the city should be retired. What she once thought of as her Rolls Royce ride is now an instrument of torture. Eliza simply will not get into the thing and would prefer to hoof it on her own everywhere we go.



Now I know few people people believe me when I tell them Eliza can easily walk a mile without breaking a sweat, so I have enlisted Mapquest to prove my point.

Twice weekly trek to the hospital for therapy: .97 miles each way.

Twice weekly trek to gym class: .65 miles each way

Daily trip to either of her favorite playgrounds: .40 miles each way.

Adding all this up, just walking to and from these three destinations each week totals 10.48 miles per week.

This does not count the running, climbing and jumping in the park, gym class or therapy. Nor does it include the various short walks to the grocery, the pharmacy, the parking garage, etc.

So can anyone tell me where a toddler who lives on about 700 calories a day finds the energy for all of this?

Saba Vacation in Hurricane Season

Despite dire predictions that travelling to Saba during the peak week of hurricane season is an act of insanity, I can report, safely from the confines of NYC, that one cannot only travel during hurricane season, but have lovely weather to boot! Let's face it, if no one travelled during hurricane season the entire Caribbean would be a ghost town from June 30 to November 30, and that would just be a shame.

Although I had high hopes that a change of scenery would suddenly cause Eliza to eat so much that we would need a miracle rivaling the fishes and the loaves to fill her belly, no such luck was to be had. However there were sightings of Eliza eating some ice cream, a bit of bread, a cube of cheese and a few strawberries.

Overall though Eliza had quite the good time, swimming, discovering that salt water does not taste like fresh water, saying "heeeyyyyy" to everyone and everything that she ran across, covering every surface (including her Nana) with stickers, picking every flower in sight. She threw a few fagairies (Saba-speak for tantrums) and her sleep was better than usual. Eliza had a grand time sharing everything with cousin Pete and faking out cousin Matthew. Eliza's vacation ended with a trip on a private plane, which was pretty darn sweet!

Since we were lucky enough to have Pete and Matthew along as our dual family photographers, I have another great collection of Eliza vacation photos to share.

Enjoy!

Who's hiding behind those shades?



Keeping her fingers crossed for good weather:



Indoor bike riding:



The Well's Bay:



You can never have enough sun block:



If the sun block doesn't work, wear a bucket on your head for protection:




Trying out her Elmo panties ... a nice combo with her baseball cap:



Who says Eliza is too big to ride in her doll stroller:

Seven Years

A small sorrow distracts; a great one makes us collected. ~Richter

Photo-Op

It is so nice to have Pete and his camera in the family!

36, A Number Not To Be Envied, Unless It Is Your Bra Size

For those of you wondering "wha-happen?"(to quote Eliza), well 36 happened. As has been reported, Eliza is a less than stellar sleeper who lives by the credo "sleep is for the weak" (this is apparently related to her other life philosophy that "food is for the weak"). Up until August Eliza had achieved a total of 36 nights of uninterrupted sleep. Now admittedly some of the sleepless nights in the first 18 months that she was home from the NICU were brought on by the need to sleep feed her or by her middle of the night vomit routine brought on be her reflux. But the past several months her inability to sleep has worsened and worsened and in the past month Eliza has been averaging about 6 to 8 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period (naps included).

This is not good at all since Eliza should be getting about 12 hours a day sleep. As Eliza's sleep deteriorated so did her behavior and sensory issues (and so did my ability to post to the blog.) Eliza could not focus in any of her therapies and would go from 0 to 10 and then 10 to 0 in the blink of an eye. One would think that all of this awake time would have caused an eating binge, but alas, a veritable hunger strike set in. Eliza's volume intake seemed to mirror the sleep situation, with her daily volume of formula sinking to as low as 6 to 8 ounces. This is not good at all for a near 30 month old who eats no food (no, I do not consider consuming one demitasse sized spoon of pudding in a day to be "eating food").

So drastic times have called for drastic measures. After talking things over with Eliza's pediatrician and a few other wise souls, Eliza is starting a 3 week trial of a prescription medication to help her sleep. The first night there was no discernible difference and Eliza finally fell asleep after 11 pm,waking at 4:42 am. Night two was not so fun. Eliza was none too keen on the taste of the medication getting squirt into her mouth, even after it was diluted with water, and basically all hell broke loose. I even had to call in reinforcements (thank you Bonnie). I decided to give it one more try on night three and was rewarded with a peaceful sleeping baby for ten hours, which translated to a markedly happier and more engaged toddler the next day.

Eliza is now on her fourth night of the medication (I'm not counting the first two nights) and if all goes well we will have hit the magic number 40 for full nights of sleep for the wee one. Hopefully a few weeks of a sleep aid will get Eliza into some type of normal sleep pattern. Her formula intake has improved the past few days and she is back to taking 12 to 16 ounces of formula a day. Who knew a well rested toddler was a hungry toddler, although actually it would appear that by all accounts Eliza has no sense of hunger or doesn't recognize the sensation as hunger.

On a far happier note, I have discovered that Eliza loves a good carousel. Last summer she was a bit put off by the loud music but this time was so enthralled I had to pre-pay for a few rides since she didn't want to get off.

Feeding the goats and birds was fun, but not nearly as entertaining as the carousel!