Celebrating International Babywearing Week with Beluga Baby

Today is the last day of International Babywearing Week. I celebrate babywearing almost every day when I strap Poppy on to go for a walk, or make a meal, or just to calm her down when she's extra fussy, but I wanted to take a minute to send some serious love to one of the baby products that got me through the fussy newborn stage.

(This isn't a sponsored post. I'm not being compensated for this "review" though it does contain affiliate links. I just love the product because it helped me through an extremely rough stage of Poppy's babyhood.)

I wasn't aware of babywearing until Grady was about six months old and I jumped on the Moby bandwagon. I loved wearing Grady but I missed out on the newborn stage. I was determined to wear Poppy from day one but my Moby felt too large for a tiny baby. I did a bit of research and discovered Beluga Baby. It appealed to me on a local love level (it was started by a BC mama) but also because of its build. The Beluga Baby wrap is smaller / shorter than the Moby, and much more stretchy.

I love my Beluga Baby wrap and more importantly, so does Poppy. I started wearing her when she was a week old and I've continued to wear her (the Beluga Baby wrap is good for babies up to 25lbs). There's just something about the soft, stretchy material that cradles her body against mine; it doesn't matter how fussy or overtired she is, as soon as I wrap her against my chest she melts into me and falls asleep.

I've professed my love for Beluga Baby so much that the lovely mama who created it has given me a discount code to share: use twoLs at checkout (I'm not affiliated and I don't receive anything if you use this code, it's all about sharing the love, baby). I've got the Shannon but I have serious googly heart eyes over the Caitlyn (it's not weird to want two stretchy wraps, right? Someone please help me justify this purchase!).

Do you wear your baby? Do you like stretchy wraps, ring slings, or structured carriers?

You're Not My Buddy

I check in with Grady every night as we're doing his bedtime routine. We talk about his day. What he did at school. Who he played with. What he ate. What he'd like to eat tomorrow. It's mostly small-talk but I want him to be in the habit of talking to me so when he's faced with bigger stuff down the line he'll know I'm always ready to listen.

Last week he was giving me the rundown of his day (liked the cheese sandwich in his lunchbox, did not like the crackers I gave him for recess, read a couple books at school, tooted about 20 times,) and he told me that a kid on the playground told him he couldn't play with him.

I saw red.

Grady wasn't even upset, he was just relaying the information like all the other tidbits he'd already delivered. I kept my cool in front of him but after he was asleep, I was livid. I was crafting emails to the teacher in my head. I was ranting on Twitter. I was full on mama bear.

And then I took a breath. I decided that if Grady wasn't upset, I wasn't upset. I'd keep an eye on the situation and continue to check in with Grady, but I wouldn't make it a thing.

And it wasn't a thing. It was one random comment from one random kid on the playground.

Yesterday I dropped Grady off at school. He lined up with his class. He waved to a couple friends. And then a classmate said good morning to him. Grady looked him straight in the eye and said, "you're not my buddy."

My heart sunk but the bell rang and the kids filed into the school before I could do anything.

I stewed all day. I asked friends for help. I asked Twitter for book recommendations on friendship and kindness. I carefully thought out what I would say to Grady and how I would approach the situation. He doesn't have to be friends with every kid at school but he does have to be kind. I'm not interested in forcing him to be friends with anyone he doesn't want to be friends with but I will drill kindness into him every day until I die.

Last night I casually asked why he had told that boy he wasn't his buddy. I was expecting tears and defensive stories about rude behaviour (the biggest transgression you can make in Grady's eyes). Grady nonchalantly answered, "because I don't know his name."

The kid isn't Grady's buddy because Grady doesn't know his name. There was no malice in his comment, just pure 5-year-old logic.

Our conversation turned out to be completely different than the one I was expecting to have with him. Which is a good thing. Keeps me on my toes. (And reminds me to stop jumping to conclusions.)

And now Grady knows how to introduce himself to kids he doesn't know. And I now know that I need to take a step back from schoolyard politics before I get an ulcer.

Four Years Ten Months Minus One Day

The age difference between Grady and Poppy is four years, ten months, minus one day.  

I knew, after Grady was born, that I wanted to have at least one more child but I didn't have a plan. Shawn and I weren't aiming for two under two. We didn't have a specific timeframe in mind. We were just trying to survive Grady's newborn days. 

And then life happened. I was diagnosed with cancer when Grady was one. I had a partial molar pregnancy (tl;dr: not a viable pregnancy) when he was three. And now here we are. Poppy was born when Grady was four years, ten months, less a day old. 

I was worried that the age gap would be problematic. Grady has been an only child (an indulged only child) for so long and he was the only grandchild (an indulged grandchild) on Shawn's side of the family. I was concerned that he would resent Poppy. That he would hate sharing the spotlight. 

I was wrong.  

The age gap we ended up with has been wonderful. Grady is so verbal, and understands so much, that we were able to address his questions and worries as they came up during the pregnancy. He asked a lot of questions, we answered them the best we could, and we didn't experience any anxiety or much emotional turmoil from him. We were able to explain to him why I had to stay in the hospital longer than we expected (we kept the explanation short and age appropriate but didn't sugarcoat it) and he was able to understand that things weren't going exactly to plan but that he was safe and secure.  

Grady's in kindergarten now, which means he's gone for six hours every day. The separation is tough (I genuinely miss him when he's at school) but I love that it's giving me the opportunity to have chunks of one-on-one time with Poppy. It's not the same as when Grady was born (you can never replicate the seemingly unlimited time you have to give to a firstborn) but it's a taste. 

The separation is good for Grady and Poppy too. It gives him a chance to miss her. Newborns are so needy and Poppy was not what you'd call a "low maintenance" newborn. We're just now moving into a delightful happy baby stage but for a long time it felt like it was Angry Baby Maintenance 24/7. School gives Grady the opportunity to be with kids his own age and get away from the all-baby-all-the-time scene. 

Poppy was having a hard time settling last night. She was fussy and mad and when I started to change her diaper, she exploded in furious cries. Grady ran into the room and climbed up beside her on the bed. He held her hand and stroked her forehead and told her to "think about us walking on a rainbow."  

If given a choice, I don't think I would have picked an age gap of four years, ten months minus one day. But now that I've got it? I wouldn't change it for the world.  

How to Get a Urine Sample from a Child

Let's just file this under "stuff I know that I wish I didn't know."

I had to collect a urine sample from Grady last week. We had to do it a few times when he was really little but it was relatively simple. A nurse taped a sterile bag around his business and we just waited for him to pee. Once, when the situation was a bit more of an emergency, an extremely talented nurse managed to catch the pee in a cup midair when Grady unexpectedly started rage-peeing in response to the threat of a catheter.

Things are different now, though. Grady pees in the potty and he's old enough to pee in a sample cup. Old enough to do it, just not coordinated enough to do it himself. Also, he was a bit fussed by the whole thing. Why do I have to pee in a cup? We don't pee in cups! What are you going to do with my pee cup?

I was dreading the toilet cleanup that was sure to be necessary so I decided to let Grady pee in the shower (with the water off, to be clear). It worked perfectly. He thought it was hilarious, which eliminated the concern he felt about peeing in the cup. He filled the cup and the dribbles were washed straight down the drain as soon as we turned the shower on. No scrubbing necessary!