Code Brown - mocha beanie mummy

A Whole New Poopgate

June 30, 2009 By mocha beanie mummy Leave a Comment

Sometimes, when you’re sitting around and chatting, you say things which of course, you don’t mean literally. For example, “Slap my belly with a soggy cucumber and call me Terry McGee, I wish I had my own personal rain cloud so I could shower whenever I liked”.

So today, whilst sitting with Mrs. Nanny, Noah and feeding Isaac, Mrs. Nanny and I were talking about how well behaved Noah had been, and how his tantrums had been quite minimal, in comparison to the colossal earthquakes we’d been used to. I replied saying “Yeah, and I bet when you leave at 5:15, about 5 minutes later the shit will hit the fan”.

We laughed, we speculated, we joked some more. And at 5:15, Mrs. Nanny left, while I sat on the sofa nursing Isaac on old Lefty, with Noah cuddled next to me. Was so lovely.

5:20 Isaac finished feeding.

5:21 Isaac pulled a peculiar face and strained a little.

5:22 My right hip became very warm.

5:24 Still wondering whether what I thought had happened, had really happened.

5:26 Noah jumped up, signing for food and then suddenly pointed at the yellow trail of crap which was running between down the nursing pillow, across the top of my trousers and on to the sofa.

5:27 I pick up Isaac, still wondering what the fuck was going to be the best way to deal with the situation; he promptly barfs straight down my vest, into my bra, down himself, and over most of what we were wearing.

5:28 it on twitter. .

5:29 Noah signing frantically for food while also trying to drag the nursing pillow out of the room; the nursing pillow covered in Isaac’s fast moving, questionable smelling, very yellow crap.

5:30 Put Isaac in the changing table on his cot, somehow peeled off my vest and trousers, took the covers off the pillows, put Noah in his chair, heated up his tea (old fail-safe lamb and sweet potato with breadsticks), over heated it so he got impatient and was practically scream-signing for food (never seen a kid willingly smack his own face so hard).

5:32 Prided myself on getting reasonably sorted. And wondered whether I got some of the crap in my hair.* Noah started chowing on his food anyway (you know the boy actually says “nommm noommm nommmm” while he’s eating? Awesome).

5:33 Went back to Isaac, discovered he had barfed again, all over himself, the changing table and projectiled it into the cot. Changed nappy, changing mat, wiped him down fast as possible.

5:35 Called Mrs. Nanny and informed her of the good news, that apparently things CAN COME TRUE.

5:40 Cleaned up Isaac, put him on his front on the sofa surrounded by pillows (where he promptly barfed again). Grabbed the nursing pillow, went to the front door in my bra and pants, frantically waving at D (who at just pulled up on the drive) to get the fuck in the house as FAST AS POSSIBLE. Go upstairs to wash pillow in the bath.

5:50 Return downstairs to find Noah happily eating his tea, and D and Isaac sitting on the sofa deep in conversation like nothing ever happened.

It’s a good job I can take the shit with the cute, right?

*I still haven’t checked. I’m guessing no.

Filed Under: Code Brown, Isaac, Noah, pointless crap, Poopgate, The Nanny

Virginal straps, a Red Jacket, Poop and the Proverbial Fan

March 18, 2008 By mocha beanie mummy Leave a Comment

This arrived a few days ago:

It’s supposedly a Baby Bjorn carrier, rated very highly. I decided it’s a questionable piece of bondage from some people with a twisted sense of humour. I was also considerably annoyed by the smug looking “mother and baby” on the cover of the box, modelling it so beautifully and so effortlessly. I think it was about three days before I decided to embrace the virgin pureness and breast enhancing/figure hugging straps. Have to admit, it’s actually pretty good, and Noah doesn’t seem to be at all bothered. Mind you, like he’s ever bothered about anything.

Needless to say, the Poopgate Scandal continues, and it seems to be spreading amongst close circles. After initiating a fabulous Code Brown at a friends house a few weeks ago (sorry K McG…), Noah decided it was time to let Nana know that behind that adorable cute face, hides a deep dark secret.

Having collected Nana from a friend’s house because she was ill, Noah and I took her home, where Noah had a feed and a nappy change. Followed by another almighty Code Brown. I wonder perhaps if I had not been so stupid as to say “Yes he’s been great lately, though he hasn’t filled his nappy in a while so I expect we’ll day with that in a day or two”, then he may not have taken that as his cue to commence the Old Man Grunting and that wonderful bubbling, gurgling sound as he expels everything with all his might into his nappy. It’s a sight to behold. Nana almost passed out.

I think maybe one day when I’m feeling particularly care free (and care less) I may just post a picture. However that does mean exposing my son’s nuts on the internet, and well, let’s face it, that’s just wrong.

My sympathies to C enduring her own Code Brown with Huddles. Try laughing, it always amuses me. But then I think I have an addiction to Poop.

By the way, he’s still piling on the pounds and is now back to the original growth curve when he was born. Yes, he’s 16lbs and on the 99.8th centile. I’m so proud. And back-broken.

My Old Friend is making a very comfortable appearance, rearing an ugly head at every given opportunity. Wouldn’t mind so much if I had the strength to fight back, but it’s amazing how quickly a person can beat themselves up at the most ridiculous things.

“Omg he threw up on me all day and omg omg his nappy is dirty again and omg omg omg I didn’t feed the cat and omg omg omg omg omg omg I forgot to wipe his face clean this morning BAD MOM BAD MOM BAD MOM”

Etc, etc.

Anyway (and this bit is the Proverbial Fan in case you’re wondering) today was just one of those days.

All set to waste a day spending obscene amounts of money shopping with the lovely “Wags”, when I get a phone call to pick up Nana. I think Noah and I had had enough time to approximately drink a diet coke (DIET! Hah.), eat B’s crumpet (thanks B, I never had crumpet before and yours was very nice…), munch on BabyB (omg those cheeks and that hair), and have a brief conversation with C about sports bras and almighty breasts (Seriously. H cups are just frightening things. They’re bigger than Noah’s head).

Nana had fainted from a stomach bug and needed collecting. Is it wrong that for a little while I was really pissed and wanted to go shopping? I felt bad, but hey. She got to see Noah and I know that made her happy. I’ll just have to go buy the world’s biggest tit-slings another time.

Finally got home, checked emails, put Noah in the Baby Torture Device (it’s surprising how fast it grows on you), and then all the power went out. For a whole freaking hour. No heating, no microwave, no cooker, no internet (GAH) nothing. And Noah had somehow soaked his way through his nappy, down his trousers and a sock. So he was really pleased.

And then, to add insult to injury, I had to give in and admit that I had dyed his clothes pink.

In another one of my “Half-Soaked Mommy” Blank-outs, I’d left his red hoodie in with his whites. Which are now bubblegum pink. He’s now as well dressed as any other girly out there. I’m not entirely sure what to do; they’re still sitting in the bath of bleach, being ignored by me.

He doesn’t care, of course, not since his passport arrived and he’s free to leave the country.

He also doesn’t seem remotely bothered that in an attempt to spruce up Winnie-the-Pooh, we gave him a far more interesting outfit. Or at least a sleeping bag.

In fact, it could be a small scale Baby Torture Device…

Filed Under: Code Brown, Depression, Mommy blog, Noah, pictures, pointless crap, Poopgate, random

And in the news today,

March 13, 2008 By mocha beanie mummy Leave a Comment

ACK. Enough with the emotions already.

Good news: despite tendonitis, I can still carry on playing as long as I ease in gently (ha!)and IL has offered to resume my lessons. Thank the lord (lucifer is on a break).

More good news: We’re indulging in Baby Einstein and it’s actually good fun. We’re working on signing for milk (which involves me signing milk whilst Noah screams his heart out for milk and just feed me now and stop wriggling your hands in my face you stupid whore). Occasionally we also sign mommy and daddy. His input is to stare at us curiously, sigh and wonder what the hell we’re trying to torture him with.

I must say, I’m truly impressed with D and his efforts; he sat and watched the signing DVD with us and learnt pretty much all of them first time round. Then we watched Baby Bach. Noah fell asleep. I can understand that…

Random good news: Noah’s cradle cap is clearing up now that I’m paying more attention to actually doing something about it, I’m off to Lush later today to pick up some world famous* Dream Cream, which does the trick nicely, compared to the ‘hint of plastic bondage clothing scented’ Oilatum.** It makes me want to Ralph.

Interesting news: Noah decide to test my skills by having two Code Browns in one day. I rose to the challenge, which resulted in only one change of clothes. I am the master…!

Not so good news: I can’t seem to shift this pregnancy weight dammit! I’m kinda tired of hearing “Oh yeh, this one girl breastfed for 3 days and lost her preggo weight plus another 48 stone!” People that does NOT make me feel better, especially when I’m exclusively breastfeeding. (Yes, because I can so nyer nyer, bitches.) I truly admire people who can shift the weight, and look gorgeous, and blah frigging blah, but what am I doing so terribly wrong? I eat breakfast (porridge), lunch (pasta maybe, big chunky-ass sandwich) and then dinner (proper in-yo-face meal). I snack on fruit…and cakes…and biscuits…oh wait, hang on.

Maybe I should take a hint from Noah.

“mum, thanks for the milk and everything, but seriously the snacking has to stop. can i interest you in a squidgy finger.”

“maybe a juicy hand.”

“nyom.”

* It probably isn’t world famous, although it might be, and it should be.

** I’d like to point out that I do not make a habit of sniffing plastic bondage clothing.

Filed Under: carpel tunnel, Code Brown, pooping, weight

Poopgate

March 3, 2008 By mocha beanie mummy Leave a Comment

It’s official, we have a Poopgate Scandal on our hands. Today was a day filled with poop in so many ways. After the antics of our official first Code Brown, things have escalated. Code Brown has escalated. Code Brown has reached amazing new heights (volumes). We’ve had another 4 since the first one, today’s Code Brown resulting in a change of Noah’s entire outfit. We have actually taken pictures of one of them. I daren’t post them because, well, oh my god (and who wants to be that person who posts pics of baby poop?). I get kinda scared when we go several wet nappies, no poop, cos you kinda know a Code Brown is in the making.

To add insult to injury, and as if Noah’s poop wasn’t enough (did I mention I’m clearly developing an obsession with poop?), some little doggy pooped on our front lawn. Not impressed. I daren’t (can’t) point any fingers as I don’t know who’s adorable little doggy it is, but still, not impressed.

Further to the Poopgate Scandals, it’s still a sore subject with myself. Fibersure is my new best friend. What frigging joy. (And don’t tell me to eat more fibre. If I eat any more fibre than I’m doing, I’ll have my own fruit farm and be growing my own corn dammit.)