Barfy McPukerson

I have no idea how this happened, but it appears that I have somehow gave birth to a puker.  I, who can't even remember the last time I threw up, though I suspect it was alcohol-induced.  (Okay, typing that just triggered a flash-back.  It was my bachelorette party in 2007.)


I blame the Hubs, and his faulty, weak-stomached genes.  The guy can pretty much barf on command.  Which can be handy when you've had too much to drink and you know it's inevitable, but not so fantastic when you'd really like to avoid tasting that three bean salad or ill-advised breakfast burrito again.



Mommy, I don't feel so good!

You may recall the stomach bug I described last June?  Oh, and let's not forget the epic two-week long pukefest in December.  Well, now we have a new notch in our barfy belt.  The Hubs spent a recent Saturday night running from the bed to the bathroom, so I wasn't terribly surprised when Lilah followed suit the next morning and started ralphing all over our apartment.  No biggie, I thought, we've done this before.  It sucked, but this one appeared to be short-lived.  The Hubs was fine by breakfast time, and Lilah appeared to be all better by dinner.  And she was fine for a full 48 hours, but then randomly yakked all over the Hubs as he was putting her to bed on the following Tuesday night.  This follows the pattern from the past few illnesses too.  Sick as a dog for the standard length of time, then fine for two or three days, and then barfy again.  What gives?

Does your kid ever recover from a stomach bug only to relapse a few days later?  I'd love to know whether this is normal or something we should add to the list of what makes our li'l Lilahbility unique and special, and well, a bit of a liability!

Poop Inspector

Since the day Lilah was born, I have relied on her poops as the best measuring stick of her digestive health. And if you're just tuning in, or have somehow managed to miss my near-constant griping about reflux and constipation, Lilah has had a whole host of digestive issues. So is it really all that surprising that I feel compelled to inspect every poop? I hold her dirty diapers up under the light, examining each specimen for colour, shape, size, and consistency. The Hubs seems to think this behaviour is quite abnormal, but ten bucks says there are other mommies out there who do the same.

Despite the teasing and face-making, the Hubs indulges this proclivity of mine by calling me over to examine a fresh dump, and sometimes even saving a dirty diaper for me if I'm not immediately available to perform the inspection. At the very least, I expect a full, detailed report on poops I am not witness to. Occasionally, differences in poop terminology result in heated debates. The Hubs recently included the word "foliage" in a poop report, causing much confusion on my part. I'm still puzzling over that one - what do leaves have to do with my daughter's faecal matter?

I know that I can't possibly be the only Poop Inspector out there because, at a recent visit to the pediatrician, I was shown an entire chart dedicated to describing the shape and consistency of baby poop. Whoever came up with the chart was almost as thorough an inspector as I am! So, c'mon, fess up, who's with me?