Tag Archive | Diaper

When is Baby Ready for Solid Foods?

When Shlomo was a baby, we decided to give him solid food only at 6 months.  Not 5 months and 2 weeks, but six months, to the day, or perhaps plus a day or two.  After all, nursing babies don’t need solid food before then; the range of 4-6 months is because, until recently, formula-fed babies were thought to need solids from 4 months, regardless of whether their digestive system was completely ready for it.  (Recently, the guidelines have changed, and the new guidelines say to start solids only at six months, regardless of whether the baby is breastfed or formula fed.)  And so six months it would be.

Honestly, four to six months is an estimate.  Just like not every baby smiles at six weeks exactly, not every baby is born on their due date, and not every baby crawls at the same time – so, too, not every baby’s digestive system is ready for solids at exactly the same time, either.  The 4-6 months for starting solids is a general guideline; even though, as a general rule, you won’t hurt your baby by giving them solids at five months and one week, it doesn’t mean that that’s what’s absolutely best for your specific baby.

If so, how will you know when to give your baby solids?

When Shlomo was five months old, we went to visit my family, in Canada.  When he fussed after a feeding, my mother, always wanting to get to the fun stuff, give advice, and catch a “first” before we went back home, told us that he needed solids.  He was five months and a few days, and we said no.  He might want it – in fact, he definitely wanted it – but he didn’t need it.

When Shlomo was five months and one week, my family went to visit a lakeside cottage; we had been invited to go with, but the technical details did not work out, and so we stayed behind, with my grandmother, cousins, and Esther, who also couldn’t go for technical reasons.  During the week that followed, Shlomo suddenly stopped sleeping as well as usual, stopped pooping during the day, and when he woke up at night and pooped, it was this weird poop (Yitzchak says it was “foamy”) that leaked all over.  After a few days of this, Yitzchak picked up the phone and called his mother (ahem, ahem).  She listened to the description and said, “Sounds like he’s ready for solids.  Try giving him banana first and then oatmeal; those are two foods that practically nobody reacts to.”

I was peeved.  I had wanted to wait until six months.  Helloo, the baby’s gut takes about six months to fully close.  But I told myself that evidently Shlomo’s gut was showing signs of readiness two weeks early, and five months, two weeks, was still pretty good.  We went out, bought some bananas, opened one partially, took a spoon, scraped some banana onto the spoon, and fed it to Shlomo (how I miss the banana-scraping days; oh, wait, we’ll soon be back there).

Abracadabra – that night, he went back to sleeping normally, pooping normally, and all was well.  My mother had her wish (kind of; I don’t think she was wishing that this would happen while she was away vacationing), and my best-mother complex had taken a slight, but not too serious, hit.  We took bananas with us on the plane home, and fed them to our five-months-two-and-a-half-week-old.  Shlomo’s first solid foods had been eaten not at home, but at his great-grandmother’s house.  (And he loved it, by the way.)

This, then, is the answer: Your baby’s gut is ready for solid food when they don’t poop on their regular schedule, their poop is weird foam, and they’re not sleeping well.

Lately, Tova has been pooping later and later in the day, and making only one or two poops, as opposed to her usual three or four.  They are also very liquidy, instead of the regular seedy.  Is this her version of foam?  Or should we wait?  For the moment, we are waiting.  We have time; there’s no rush.

Plus, there are three very nice advantages to breastmilk-only poop: 1. You don’t have to take her out of a synagogue, or stop praying, just because she made a poop.  2. Most (95%) of the poop that gets on her clothes doesn’t leave any kind of mark, even without stain treatment.  Of the remaining 5%, if I put stain remover onto it once, it comes out 99% of the time.  Which means that between two breastfed kids, I have maybe two or three garments that were stained, truly stained, by breastmilk poop. 3. Ditto for breastmilk spit-up – I don’t think I’ve had to use stain remover at all.

In other words, I really like the convenience of my baby’s bodily fluids not staining anything.  And I will miss that when we add solids.  On the other hand, after they start solids, the poop becomes more solidified and they spit up less.  So it kind of (but not quite) evens out . . . right?

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Formula: Sometimes, Medically Necessary

When?

Well, once upon a time, the gene for not being able to produce breastmilk was pretty rare.  If a woman couldn’t produce enough milk, she needed a wet nurse.  Wet nurses were expensive, though.  So if she didn’t have the money, and didn’t have the milk – well, let’s just say the gene wasn’t passed on to the next generation.  Survival of the fittest, did we say?  Perhaps of the richest, who often used a wet nurse even when it wasn’t necessary, to spare Mom the “burden” of breastfeeding.

Over the centuries, many tried and failed to find a substitute for human milk.  The formula we have today is the grandchild of the earliest experiments at alternative feeding; usually these alternative methods resulted in infant mortality within the first year; some from the food itself and some from bad hygiene.  In other words, it is the grandchild of the first non-toxic formula.  Obviously, back then, no one gave formula unless the baby didn’t have a mother, or the mother had not a drop of milk and no one to nurse her baby.

Since the age of barely non-toxic formulas, we’ve come a long way.  We’ve come so far, in fact, that unless you know a person’s medical history, it’s hard to guess which kids were formula fed and which were breastfed.

In other words, formula does a pretty good job of enabling these babies to grow, develop normally, and have a great chance at a good life.

That doesn’t mean, though, that formula is for everybody.  Formula isn’t human milk, and because of that, it wasn’t made for human babies.  However terrific a job it does at compensating for the lack of breastmilk, it still isn’t the ideal baby food.  Formula is like medicine.  In many ways, it IS medicine.  It was made for certain situations, and in those situations, it literally saves thousands, if not millions, of lives.  But just like you don’t give your child penicillin if he doesn’t have an infection, you shouldn’t give your child formula if he doesn’t absolutely need it.  Giving either of them too frequently, and without just cause, can have unwanted results. But, that’s not the topic of this post.

With the advent of good infant formula, a lot of babies survive who wouldn’t have had a chance previously.  With the advent of successful fertility treatments, and good prenatal monitoring, a lot of babies are born who wouldn’t have had a chance to be otherwise.  Combine these factors together, including the fact that if a couple’s infertility is female-factor, the same hormones that made pregnancy difficult may make lactation impossible – and there you have it, growing numbers of mothers and babies who are simply unable to breastfeed.

And – that’s fine.  In fact, it’s great.  It is absolutely terrific that these mothers are able to have babies, and that these babies are able to survive.  It’s a modern-day miracle, and one that we all have to be thankful for.

Again, the problem isn’t formula.  The problem is the abuse of formula. Let’s take a look at some possible contraindications to breastfeeding:

– As usual, mother has no milk.  By no milk I mean that she tried supplements, she tried dietary adjustments, she went to lactation consultants, she nursed and pumped around the clock to raise supply – and no luck.  Nothing doing.  The mother who suffers from this often feels inferior, because she feels betrayed by her body and unable to give her baby its most basic necessity – food.

– The baby who cannot form a vacuum.  This is usually fixable by some surgical procedure (yes, even clipping a tongue is technically a surgical procedure, even more so fixing a cleft palate), and until then, the mother has to stick it out by pumping and/or nursing.  Many mothers, too many, give up prematurely.  (There, but for my research, go I.)

– The mother who is taking a medication that is incompatible with breastfeeding, and there is no breastfeeding-compatible medicine available for her.

– The baby who is lactose intolerant, including lactose from human milk.  Sometimes this is fixable by a change in the mother’s diet.  Sometimes, no matter what the mother eats or doesn’t eat, the baby reacts.

– The baby whose mother got pregnant only a few months postpartum.  While this doesn’t mean that you have to stop nursing, if the baby is less than nine months old, chances are high that supplements will be needed.  Sometimes, the baby will start eating more solids.  Sometimes, if the baby isn’t old enough for solids or refuses, formula will be necessary.  Here I want to add that for the first two or three months of pregnancy, the milk stays suitable for the older baby.  Around week 16-20, it begins to turn into colostrum, and possible supply will decrease.  Again, any breastfeeding is better than none, and even if supplements are necessary for a few months, when the baby is born, the mother can dump the supplements in the trash and nurse tandem.

– The baby whose mother chose a method of birth control that is incompatible with breastfeeding.

– The mother who is hospitalized without being given an opportunity to pump.

– The mother who was given bad advice by medical or lactation “professionals”.

– The baby who has no mother.

There are probably more, but these are the main, basic, categories that come to mind right now.

Let me ask a question: Why aren’t there more banks for human milk?  At the moment, at least in Israel, there is a government-supervised bank, but the milk goes mostly to preemies, gastro-intestinally compromised babies, or babies without a mother.  Why can’t a “normal” baby get donor milk?

Some of you will say that it’s gross.  Well, I have news: Birth is gross.  Changing diapers is gross.  For goodness’ sake, any bodily fluid is gross.  Well, except breastmilk, in my mind; it tastes okay and it’s good for you (I tried a drop of my milk so that I’d know the difference between good milk and sour milk).  What grosses most people out, I think, is the idea of sharing the breastmilk.  But think of it this way: When you need a blood transfusion, do you say, “Ewww, gross, that blood was in someone else’s body?”  Of course not.  So, why is it gross to use donor milk?  As long as the donor is healthy – and if she is willing to feed the milk to her own kid, I think that she can pretty much be trusted – there’s no reason why not.  The only difference between donor milk and the wet nurses of old is that donor milk can be fed to the baby by its parents, while a wet nurse took all the responsibility on herself.

So, now there are Facebook groups and community milk banks.  But they aren’t widely enough spread, they don’t have enough donors, and not enough recipients are aware of them, or willing to use them.  But if formula, in the mind of someone who tried to breastfeed and couldn’t, is a sign of failure, why is donor milk worse?  It’s better – no, you couldn’t breastfeed yourself, but you still made sure that your child got breastmilk.

I think society needs a change of mindset.

Formula is a legitimate choice for those mothers who cannot breastfeed, or whose babies are unable to breastfeed.  Formula is a very, very, good thing, as long as it is not abused.  Those mothers who use it without medical necessity ruin how society views formula for those who have a legitimate need to use it.

Those who need formula should not have to pay the inflated price formula companies ask.  It is not fair, it is not just, to force someone who has no other option to pay an outrageous fee, for that many containers a year.  Formula that is medically necessary should be hugely subsidized.  Formula that is not medically necessary should be off the shelves.

Breastmilk, even donated breastmilk, is better than formula.  Feeding someone else’s breastmilk to your baby is not a sign of failure but a sign of courage and dedication.

Breastfed babies are the norm, not the exception.  Breastfeeding needs to be accepted and encouraged, not something shameful and disgusting.  I am not for a woman exposing her entire front and side on a park bench.  I am for women being able to sit and nurse, modestly and decently (I don’t use a blanket, but between the blouse and the t-shirt underneath, no one sees anything), in public places.  Without worrying if they will be yelled at, without feeling that the whole world is staring at them, without worrying about a smoker coming to sit down next to them (and then they are either stuck second-hand smoking for half an hour, or they have to get up and move in the middle), and without having to walk ten minutes, with a screaming, hungry, baby, to find a place to nurse.

Pumping should be legitimate and supported, especially for working mothers.  It should not be easier for a mother to switch to formula when she goes back to work, especially since, in the long run, it costs us all money.

Society needs a change.  But it won’t happen if we play Ostrich.

 

 

Poopy-Training and Tzuk Eitan

Remember how, during Tzuk Eitan (Operation Protective Edge), we were potty-training Shlomo and a siren went off while he was on the potty?

Well, 6 months later, we are about back to where we were then.  How we did it, I don’t know.  I think by just making a direct reward, a direct consequence, and letting it be.  In other words, the direct reward and direct consequence are the only things that we associate with pooping.  It was just getting to be too much, and we felt like everything in his life, and ours, was connected to poopng . . . something we didn’t feel was healthy or beneficial.

Direct reward: He gets his pacifier from the moment he’s off the potty until he leaves for gan the next morning.  There is no connection between the pacifier and the potty, you say?  You’re right.  Except that the pacifier was the only thing he really seemed to care about on a long term basis.

No potty, no cookie?  No problem, I don’t need a cookie anyways.

Potty and half an hour of uninterrupted playtime with one of us, even on a busy day?  Well, that’s nice, but I get it enough anyways, and when I really want it I’ll poop in the potty.

No potty, no pasta (because pasta is constipating and he eats too many carbs)?  Who cares, I like vegetables and as long as I’m not hungry it doesn’t make that much of a difference.

No potty, no tablet? Meh, who cares.

Poop in pants and pick it up with a wipe?  Who cares?

Poop in pants and pick it up with my hands?  Ewwwwww.  But it’s not so bad, it gets a reaction, and the solution is simple: Don’t poop.

No potty, no pacifier?  But I waa-aa-aaa-annn-ttt.

Originally, I suggested trying poop-f0r-pacifier for a single week to see if it would work.  The idea was that at the end of the week, something would have changed.  Either he would give up the pacifier, he would poop in the potty, or possibly both.

In the end, what happened was none of the above; and all of the above.

He is much less dependent on the pacifier, and can sleep well without it.  (If Tova wakes him up, we give him the pacifier whether or not he’s pooped.  Tova waking him up is not something that he can control, plus it means that he won’t become resentful of her waking him or us up.  Win-win.)

And when he wants the pacifier, which is nearly every day, he sits and poops on the potty.

If he poops in his pants, he helps clean it up.  Just like he would clean up after himself if he spilled oatmeal.  We clean up our poops, he can help clean up his.  Because he is a clean freak, this is a very awful punishment – which is why, when it was done by itself, he held in his poop for a whole week and became seriously constipated.

Shlomo isn’t pooping every day yet, but we’re averaging about three times a week, which is pretty good.  Sometimes he holds in his poop so long that he gets poop smear stains on his underwear – poop that tried to come out but got pulled back in.  When that happens, he has two choices: Put a big poop in the toilet, or touch the poop in the underwear.  It’s been about a month since the last poop outside the potty, and we’ve only had a few big smears and a few little ones.  Tfu tfu tfu, may it continue to get better.

Also, at some point more than a month ago, we switched from potty to toilet seat.  We took the stool and the toilet seat and sat him on the big toilet.  At the beginning he was afraid and held Yitzchak’s shoulders, until he realized he wouldn’t fall.  Then he had a choice: No toys and potty, or toys and big toilet.  Guess which one he chose – the big toilet.  He poops with his tablet in hand.  And if that means that he only poops 6 days a week and doesn’t poop on holidays, so be it.  The maximum is three days, and even that is only once a year, and not every year.

The toilet seat has this lid in the front meant for making sure that the pee won’t spray all over the place.  He complains that it hurts his peepee.  Solution?  Stick a wad of toilet paper between the plastic and the peepee.

We are still working on peeing while sitting on the potty.  At present he insists on standing up to pee and then sitting back down to try pooping.  Eventually, I think he will get it.  In the meantime, he has peed on himself a few times when we told him to push down his peepee and pee into the toilet while sitting.

I write the bathroom-appropriate details because I assume that some of my readers are parents who are potty-training boys, and I assume it will be helpful.  If Shlomo reads my blog when he is older and protests my explicit instructions meant for potty-training parents, I will let him reword it.  Otherwise, I will save it for him and his wife when his son decides to pull the same stunts.

I take comfort in the fact that Tova, unlike Shlomo, does not like sitting in dirty diapers.  She will cry until you change her diaper, even if it only has pee in it.  Shlomo did not care if his diaper was wet or dirty, unless it got his clothes wet or dirty.  The biggest obstacle to his potty training was that he simply did not care.  For all that he is a neat freak, having a gross bottom was someone else’s issue and not worth the break from playing.  Hopefully, since Tova seems to dislike being wet or dirty, she will be happy to learn how to keep herself dry and clean by going to the potty.  She is also a girl, and supposedly girls train faster – but this we will see in due time.

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Update from after Shabbat, Feb. 28: Apparently, I need to stop posting poop-training updates.  Shortly after this was published we found poop in his underwear – or rather, slime in his underwear.  It was much more than just a little stain.  Then he pooped in the toilet.  The next day, we found another stain in his underwear.  And the day after that.  Sigh.  Today I told Shlomo that my contract includes washing poopy underwear for maximum eight months, and that it applies to one-, two-, and three-year olds, but not to four-year-olds.  Then I got a brilliant idea: My contract doesn’t include washing a 4-year-old’s poopy underwear, right?  And the extra loads are a waste of water and electricity; if I don’t do the extra loads I suffer from the stink and have to make sure nothing touches it.  Solution: He can hand wash his own poopy underwear.  Fair enough, no?  It takes the task of my hands, and saves electricity and water . . . and teaches him some responsibility.  We’ll see what happens now.

Potty-Training Attempt #3 – No Turning Back

This post was begun on January 30, 2014.

Success!  Well, sort of.

What happened was this:

Shlomo turned three in March.  Traditionally, when a boy turns three, you cut his hair for the first time (a ceremony called “upsherin/upshernish” by American Jews and called a “chalakah” by Israelis), and give him a kipa (religious head covering) and tzitzit. About a month before his birthday, his ganenet announced that there was NO WAY that he would have his chalakah in a diaper.  How can you put tzitzit on a kid with a poopy diaper?  I agreed with her, and said that I’m all for it, but as we both know, it’s not fully up to us.

She insisted that we go for it and try again.  It just had to work.  She’s been a ganenet for twenty years and never has a kid worn kipa and tzitzit with a diaper.  I agreed, not fully believing that it would work – after all, this is time three, right?  And the first two ended in failure because Shlomo was just too stubborn, and at the end of the day, no one can make you pee or poop in the toilet if you don’t want to.

So we went for it.  Diaper off in the morning, on only at bedtime.  Poop belongs in the potty.  And for some reason, which Yitzchak and I believe to be a desire to get us to leave him alone, it worked.  Sort of.  He held in his pee – usually.  Stayed dry, and peed in the toilet, just enough to satisfy us and get himself nominally out of diapers (which is what led to the title of this post – Shlomo was nominally trained, and therefore there was no turning back).  We think that he just figured that if he didn’t give in, we’d keep trying every so often until he did, so he might as well just give up, or at least pretend to.

After a while it became more frequent, with less accidents.  But still, poops were saved for the bedtime diaper.  We would put him in pajamas and a diaper, get ready to read him a book, and he would poop.  We were just happy that he wasn’t holding it in; a lot of kids do, and the ganenet, when she saw that he wasn’t pooping in gan, asked if he was pooping at home, because she was worried.

At some point, I’m not sure how, we got him to poop on the toilet.  Yitzchak says that it was the tablet that he received as a gift for his birthday, from Bubby (Yitzchak’s mother).  We also bribed him with cookies and make a big fuss over it.  After a while, when he was more comfortable pooping on the potty, we stopped making such a big deal of it, and on condition that one of us sit with him (usually Yitzchak because my nose is more sensitive than his) he agreed to poop prize-free.  When we started seeing him backslide, we at first returned the treats and then realized that he was abusing the privilege: He would put a small poop in the toilet, get the treat, and then make a big poop in diaper.  Haha, you silly parents.  You fell for it, again.  And again.  So we took away all treats until he made a successful poop in the potty with no poops in his underwear.  And that’s been our policy since.

We STILL backslide sometimes.  I’m not quite sure why.  This morning I was feeding him and something started to stink.  I couldn’t figure out what it was, until it hit me and I asked Yitzchak to check his diaper (Shlomo was still in pajamas).  Yep, poopy in the diaper.  But as mad as we were, we were also relieved – Shlomo hadn’t pooped in four days (and prior to that, had made a week’s worth of poops in his underwear).  This evening, Yitzchak brought the tablet, sat with him, and Shlomo pooped in the potty.  We praised him.  And he got his treats back.  Boy, was he proud of himself.  I just wish I knew how to keep the poop in the potty – and what motivates him to decide to go on potty-strike.

Yes, Yitzchak STILL sits with him.  Poops are in a potty.  Pees are standing up, peeing into the big toilet, like any guy on the street.  I think the poops go in the potty for three reasons: 1. He’s scared of sitting on the big toilet. 2. The toilet seat we have isn’t comfortable.  3. It’s easier to poop with your feet on the floor.  Plus, you get the lid of the real toilet as a table to drive cars on.

Shlomo is not potty trained at night yet, and honestly, I don’t expect him to be.  He stays dry when he naps during the day, even during long 4-5 hour naps (which we allow only when we are going to be up late and we need the quiet to prepare for a holiday).  But my siblings didn’t stay dry till age five or six, and even then, I remember walking them to the toilet in the middle of the night.  If I remember correctly, twice – once about an hour after they went to sleep, and once around ten or eleven at night.

And after talking to Yitzchak’s mother, I found that she had had a similar experience with her kids.  So with a combination of genes like that, and the knowledge the a lot of night training is physiological and not necessarily within the child’s control – we still buy diapers for the nighttime.  One Shabbat, we had forgotten.  Since we had been planning to experiment anyways, we let him sleep in underwear.  Suffice it to say, experiment failed.  When we see that the diaper is dry several mornings in a row, we will try again.

And with this, dear readers, I [hopefully] end our saga of potty training until next time – which will hopefully be only with the next kid.

Poop In The Coupe

On Wednesday morning, I changed a leaky poopy diaper.  Ugh.  Wednesday night, we found a glob of poop on the floor, that I had mistaken for a leaf (and thankfully not stepped on).  Yitzchak, of course, cleaned it up.  Done?  Done.

cozy coupe, cozy coupe, cozy coop, kid car, toy car, poop car, kiddie car, kid in car, little tikes car

Cozy Coupe. Ours is sans eyes, though.

Shabbat was Yom Kippur.  Friday night, Shlomo points to his Cozy Coupe and says, “Yeah?”  I said, “Yeah, it’s your car.  You want to sit in your car?  Sit in it and drive.  Zoom zoom!”  He’s not happy.  He points, turning his hand so his finger is pointing into the car.  I look down, and see something on the edge of the seat.  Something brown.  Oh, no.  I guess that explains where the glob on the floor came from (I thought I had gotten lucky and even though he’d run around before I changed the diaper, he hadn’t sat on anything).

Yes, it’s poop.  Dry, non-smelly poop.  Shlomo is pointing to it, because he wants it cleaned.  His car has poop in it, and that grosses him out.  Little cleanie.  Well, I waited for Yitzchak to get home.  Yitzchak took a wipe to it.  But Shlomo refuses to sit.  He keeps pointing to the seat.  Once poopy, always poopy.

“You got poop in your car?” I ask.  “Pup, pup?  Pup!” Shlomo says, pointing to the car.  I think – wait a second.  He hasn’t sat in his car since Wednesday morning, because there’s poop in it.  It’s Friday night now, and that car is his favorite toy.  Oh.  My.  Gosh.  He has given up on his favorite toy for two and a half days, because it has poop in it.  I can’t believe it.  (Lucky me, huh?)  That’s why he’s gone back to playing with other things.  That’s why he’s pushed the car but not sat in it.

And to think that I just figured it was a phase, because he was sick of the car.  He’s not sick of the car, he’s just grossed out.

It’s now Sunday night, and he still won’t sit in the car, or put dolls in it to drive to dolls around.  Because, of course, the dolls shouldn’t get dirty, either.  Even from cleaned-up poop.

Once poopy, always poopy.

And while we’re on the subject of poop, what’s a poopy headLet’s see . . .

Day Two: 3 Day Potty-training

Today (Thursday) was day two.

There was no marked improvement, except that our worries about Shlomo’s constipation were put at ease around ten o’ clock this morning – on the floor.

Yes, he goes in the toilet.  But he doesn’t seem to care too much where he goes.  He is happy to get the praise, and the stickers (he loves stickers, so I thought it would help), but he doesn’t care too much where he pees.

When he pees in the toilet, he gets praise and stickers.  When he pees on the floor, he gets disappointment and has to help clean it up.  But he doesn’t really care, as long as he gets the praise when he wants it.

Today I took a break and left Yitzchak with a sleeping Shlomo to go shopping for Shabbat.  By the time I got back, of course, Shlomo was awake.  I reminded Yitzchak that we had to take him out today, and we agreed (while on speaker, so Shlomo heard it all) that if Shlomo had made a peepee in the “toilet”, he would get shorts, shoes, and come out to meet me.  I told this to Yitzchak, then to Shlomo, and then heard Yitzchak telling Shlomo.

Of course, if he didn’t peepee in the toilet soon enough, he would just stay home till I arrived.

I got off the bus and started walking home.  About halfway there, I see Yitzchak – carrying a diapered, pants-less, shoe-less Shlomo towards me.  Something obviously was funny.

Had Shlomo peed in the toilet?  Yes.  What had happened was that after Yitzchak told him that he could go out, Shlomo waited a few minutes until he had some pee, peed a tiny bit (standing) straight into his potty, without missing at all, and then looked at Yitzchak expectantly, waiting.  Yitzchak, of course, praised him.  And Shlomo kept staring expectantly (instead of dancing and smiling proudly from ear to ear), waiting for his sticker.  As soon as he got the sticker, he went straight to the door and banged on it.

As we say in Hebrew, “nafal ha’asimon”.  Or, Yitzchak finally understood.  Rather, he understood what we had known since yesterday.  Shlomo was using this as an opportunity to have both parents staring at him, singing and praising him, and giving him stickers.  He saw that peeing in the potty would allow him to go outside, so he peed in the potty.  But did he care about potty-training?  Nope.

What is really depressing about this story is the following: Besides for the fact that since yesterday, Shlomo hasn’t really shown improvement (we know he understands, because he’s peed little bits in the toilet at least twenty times, sometimes stopping, getting praise, and then continuing for more praise), Yitzchak spoke to his mother.

And his mother said that both he and brother #2, Ron, refused to potty train until they had no choice.  For Yitzchak, what changed that was daycare.  He saw other kids peeing in the toilet and decided it was a worthwhile thing to do.  That was at three years old; it took a month.  For Ron, it took until four years, when his parents locked him in a room for a whole week and didn’t let him out for anything other than to go to the bathroom (meals he ate in his room).  Within a week, he was trained.  Both potty-trained themselves.  MIL tried the 3-day method on Ron, and it failed utterly.  He simply didn’t care if he pooped on the floor, and in his mind, it was better – he wasn’t sitting in it.  Because of Yitzchak’s similarity in personality to Ron, she didn’t even bother trying it on him.

And then Yitzchak has the audacity to complain that Shlomo is taking advantage of us.  It’s his genes, after all.  Or rather, the not-caring is his.  The intelligence required to not care is mine (intelligence is on the X, and Shlomo’s only got one of those).

We are thinking of where to go from here.  I don’t mind the diaper changes (though underwear would be cheaper), but Shlomo fights, and it’s getting harder and harder to force him to let me change his diaper.

At least we only lost two days.  We’re not giving up yet, but we definitely need a change in strategy.

 

3 Days of Watching

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Shlomo is producing potential biohazards on our floor today.

(Note: This post is from yesterday.)

We are potty-training for real.  At least, we hope so.

Shlomo was interested in sitting on the toilet (with one of those little toilet seats over it), but then it wasn’t comfortable for him, because for his peepee to point into the toilet meant sitting with his legs tight together, and the little “cap” on his toilet seat hurt his peepee.  So we got him a potty chair.  First we put a bag into it, but he didn’t like that on his tush.  So now we put a bit of water into the bottom, so that it’s easier to dump the contents into the toilet.

But, he wasn’t thrilled with either one, and lost interest pretty fast.

Which was fine with me – I knew we were starting early.  And as long as he let me change his diapers, I wasn’t going to complain.

However, for the past two weeks or so, diaper-changing time has gotten increasingly difficult.  Shlomo doesn’t want me us to change it – even when it’s leaking – and he fights.

Last night, I was reorganizing Shlomo’s drawers, for the change of season and because Yitzchak’s mother just sent us a whole summer wardrobe and I had to fit those clothes and his other clothes into three little drawers.  We came to the training underwear that she’d bought six months ago for us.  Most of them hadn’t been worn yet.  I told Yitzchak that either we put them away, or we use them.

I had heard of the three-day potty training method, and it sounded better than six months of potty training.  I told Yitzchak to look it up.  Obviously, Yitzchak would find a problem with something no one thought of: There isn’t always grout between tiles in Israel.  And then poop would get stuck between them.

Since Yitzchak couldn’t find anything better, we are doing it anyways, tiles or not.

Yitzchak wanted to try it with underwear.  After two consecutive accidents within one hour, we quit that.

The accidents didn’t stop, though.  We had two consecutive pee accidents, plus a poop with the second pee, within fifteen minutes.  And then one spritz onto Shlomo’s plate of olives.

But, since then, we’ve been good.

A drop of poop and a pee in the “toilet”.

And a whole bunch on the floor.

We’re only on day 1.  If this doesn’t work, we’ve lost only three days.  If it does work, we’ve gained a few months.

The picture above is Shlomo wearing his new biohazard shirt.  I thought it was an appropriate shirt for a day of poop and pee accidents.

Groceries and Diapers

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Osher Ad

Late yesterday afternoon, Shlomo asked Yitzchak for a nap – and Yitzchak put him into his crib.  Yes, Yitzchak, I know Shlomo wants a nap – he asked me two and a half hours ago.  But, he’s not that tired, and if we want him to go to sleep early, he shouldn’t nap now.  No matter, what’s done is done – no reason to make a big fuss.

We needed to buy diapers.  A few months ago, the brand that we usually buy changed their pattern.  With that change, the amount that the diaper absorbed also changed – for the worse.  Then, almost a month ago, when we had only one diaper left, I asked a neighbor to pick up diapers for us when she went out (obviously, I said I would pay her back), and because she didn’t find our usual brand, she bought a different one.  My neighbor picked up two packages, and they worked great.  So great, in fact, that we decided to only buy this brand from now on.  The problem?  Not every store carries them.  After Yitzchak had checked three stores, I looked at the company’s website. There I found a list of stores that carry their brand.  One of them was out of the way, but close enough to be worthwhile.

The connection between the first two paragraphs?  We were running out of diapers; Shlomo wasn’t going to go to sleep at his bedtime.  So, I decided that we should do our grocery shopping at Rami Levy, instead of Osher Ad (where we usually go).  And how, exactly, do we do grocery shopping?

Well, I’ve decided that we go to the store too often, and would save time and money by following a menu plan . . . and doing supermarket shopping once every two weeks (excluding milk, which almost always expires a week after you buy it).

For vegetables, fruits, legumes, and grains (not grain products, grains themselves), we go to the shuk.  Yitzchak studies next to the shuk, so buying whatever we need from there is not an issue.  For everything else, we go to the supermarket, once every two weeks.  It hasn’t worked out perfectly – sometimes I go only after three weeks – but it’s going okay, and hopefully will get better.

We went to the store.  We did our grocery shopping, and our diaper shopping.  We did end up coming back later than we wanted to, but on the other hand, Shlomo went to sleep right away.  And we all know that either he would’ve stayed awake playing, or stayed awake in his crib complaining.  At least we avoided that and used our time for something . . . right?

Pacifier Update

This is an update on today’s earlier post

It is 11:08pm.  We Yitzchak found Shlomo’s pacifier about twenty minutes ago, buried in the bathroom garbage under a pile of dirty diapers.  The clip we salvaged, and put it away for the next one.  The pacifier got moved to the kitchen garbage, for some reason that Yitzchak did not explain to me.  Now we know what happened to it, and Shlomo saved us the trouble of throwing it away.  The downside?  He will have to learn, the very hard way, that things which are put in the garbage do not come back, ever. 

Maybe we will tell him where we found it, after the garbage has already been taken out.  We will not show the pacifier to Shlomo, or dig it out.  Things that go in the garbage do not come out, and for everyone’s sake, he needs to know that.  However, I am counting on Shlomo to remember that he left the pacifier in the garbage.  I think, and hope, that the memory alone will do the job.  Perhaps this is why, when I asked Shlomo where his pacifier was, he did not get it.  Dirty diaper garbage is gross, and he knows that.  I certainly would not want to dig something out of it, which is why Yitzchak was the one to find the pacifier.  So, it makes sense that Shlomo did not retrieve his pacifier, all throughout the day.  (In fact, thinking about it, he just ignored my question, and when he was not ignoring it, he kept staring at the bathroom.)  But, Shlomo needs to know that I cannot read his mind, and if he doesn’t tell me, or show me, where he put it, I cannot help him.  Oops.

I am glad (or rather, hoping, because my favorite scarf is missing) that Shlomo is learning this lesson on something that I wanted to throw away, anyways.  I am glad that he is learning this lesson on something that is his, easily replaceable (if we chose to), and has no sentimental value.  May it be a one-time lesson that he never has to learn again.  May it be the hardest lesson Shlomo ever has to learn.  Amen.