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Jami Mays

the tech nerd in your pocket

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Hippie Shit

This baby is full of shit

October 5, 2015 by Jami Howard Mays

Don’t worry, I’m not posting pictures of baby shit. I’m not THAT terrible of a person. (I only texted the video of the aftermath to my husband).

When Charlie was three days old and STILL shitting meconium, I told my husband, “This baby is full of shit!”

Nevermind that I had to be admitted to the hospital 12 hours before my labor began because there was meconium in my water when it broke (so he was shitting in utero), this baby went on for SIX days of meconium poop. And he was born five days post-estimated-due-date.

Charlie has always been a farter — much to his daddy’s praise — but it’s only in the last few weeks that I’ve become increasingly obsessed with my baby’s bowels. I know logically that it’s considered within the realm of normal for an exclusively breastfed baby to only poop once in a two week period. But I think, because of all the farting, around day three I start to turn into a weird, obsessive poop patrolling parent.

“Did he poop?” is the question I ask anyone else that changes his diaper. I’m sure I sound like a crazy person, but I’m seriously wondering, “When is this baby going to poop?”

The first time, it was only like three or four days. You could tell that, by day three, Charlie was noticeably cranky. I was giving him belly massages and we were all taking turns playing with him by bicycling his legs. And then, YAY! He pooped. It was a little anticlimactic — just a regular sized little dijon mustard schmear in his cloth diaper.

The second time, it was six days. I remember saying to my husband, trying my damndest to play it cool like the experienced, not-gonna-freak-out-about-stuff mama I like to pretend to be, “If he hits day seven, I’ll call the doctor or something.”

Nevermind that I had already frantically pinged my friend Amber, the lactation consultant on Facebook messenger. She assured me that everything was fine, blah blah blah.

And it was… This time. He finally pooped on day six and, again, it was just a regular little breastfed skid mark of a thing.

When Harrison was a baby, he seemed to poop at every nursing. Half way through feeding him, his little skinny body would get stiff and rigid and his face would turn red — while he was still latched and actively nursing — and SPQUOOOOSH — he’d poop. He was so predictable. He never did anything crazy with his poop. There are no stories of coming in to find him after a nap with his diaper off and shit smeared all over himself and his bed. He was the model shitter, you guys. 

This is what first children do to you. They’re great in a lot of ways… And you eventually forget about all the bat-shit crazy things that happened (I seriously cannot remember one crazy thing that happened with Harrison when he was a baby. Seriously, not one thing right now. Hashtag buried trauma). It’s a biological imperative because if we remembered all the horrible things our first kids did, we’d never have more children. IT’S ABOUT FURTHERING THE HUMAN RACE… At our own expense.

So, of course, Charlie… Oh my lort, Charlie.

This was the third time he had gone for a while without pooping. I was looking at my diet, thinking surely there’s something I’m doing wrong that is causing his poops to get further and further apart… I’m looking at him like he’s the tardis of babies, “Where are you putting all this milk, dude?” If the average breastfed baby gets 25 ounces of milk a day (that’s like THREE GLASSES OF MILK, y’all!), where the ever-loving-fuck is he putting the milk? He’s not super chunky or fat. He’s not growing at an overly-exceptional rate. He’s smart as hell, but seriously, where is the milk going?

My friend Leah wisely said, “No waste.” Which makes sense to me on a philosophical level, but when we’re talking volume and measurements — where does the milk go when a baby doesn’t poop for a week?

The better question would have been, “Where does the milk go when a baby doesn’t poop for a week and, actually, he’s only had two little Hershey-squirts in the last THREE WEEKS?”

You see where I’m going here, right?

Let me go back a little bit, before I open up the trauma wound for you. A couple of weeks ago, my friend Kristen was writing her column, Kiddie Dope, for the Flagpole, our local free paper. She wanted a picture of a fresh baby + mama + the midwife that delivered him to go along with her article about birth choices in Athens. When she arrived, Charlie had just pooped in his diaper, some basic little poop, nothing to write home about. We’re standing in his room, waiting for my midwife Alexa to come by to get the photo op.

I’m all tra-la-la-ing through this diaper change because, big deal, right? As I’m wiping Charlie’s ass, he REDI-WHIPS-HIS-SHIT into my hand. Thankfully, I had a cloth wipe in my hand because if I had felt the heat of his shit on my skin, I probably would have stress-fainted. It really rattled me in a way that is funny now, but was really kind of pushing me on the verge of a panic-attack. It was twenty minutes before my heart stopped racing.

Can you see the trauma on my face? No? Good.
Can you see the trauma on my face? No? Good.

I had NEVER had a baby literally shit in my hands. Somehow, I was able to dodge all of those disgusting bullets with my first kid, but Charlie has other plans. This kid is up to something, y’all. Pray for me.

So, last night, he pooped! Yay! It had had been six days again. I was beginning to think this was our new normal. Charlie drinks a week’s worth of breastmilk and only poops a sandwich’s worth of dijon mustard. Fine. I congratulated him (and breathed a sigh of relief), changed his diaper and we went to bed.

This morning was completely typical in every way – we have got our mornings down to a science. Get up, get the oldest child up, get dressed, nurse a little, take the big boy to school, Charlie falls asleep on the ride, wakes up about 15 minutes after we get back home, nurses again and then takes a good, long morning nap.

Except…

He wouldn’t settle in for his good, long morning nap. I’m thinking, “Is this another growth spurt?” He’s snuggled up next to me on the couch, happily chewing/sucking on his hands when I hear that familiar SPQUOOOOSH and think, “Hm… That’s weird. He just pooped last night.”

So I’m going to stop here and give you a chance to leave. It’s not too late. You can save yourself. I was not able to save myself from what happened during this diaper change, but you can still save yourself. Close the website. Walk away. Look toward the heavens and breathe in a deep, sweet breath of autumn air and exhale knowing that you saved yourself.

No?

Still want to go on? Okay… But I’m just apologizing in advance. I promise, no pictures.

I unsnap his cute, yellow Fuzzi Bunz diaper and, welp, there’s more poop. Nothing terrible (yet), but it’s an interesting consistency. Less watery than usual and almost a little, peanut-buttery in texture. There’s even a little smooth-terd-y piece right between his butt cheeks. Let me just wipe that–OH MY GOD.

OH MY GOD. IT’S STILL COMING OUT. The poop was still coming out of his butt. The best way I can describe this to you is via gif.

O9ZriYf

Nightmare fuel.

So I wipe his butt and frantically move the wipe and the diaper away from his kicking feet.

I’m holding his feet with my left hand and the wipes warmer is on the left side, so I’m reaching over his body for another cloth wipe and he grunts and I hear a soft gurgling sound. I’m barely able to catch the next … wave? … of shit as it oozes out of his butt. I don’t even have time to unfold the wipe, so IT’S TOUCHING MY HAND BARELY.

So I’m freaking out. I don’t remember if I was squealing, but I’m pretty sure I was making noise. I really don’t remember sound at all except what I heard next, when I was looking at my right hand, with poop on it, and reaching with my left hand for another wipe.

His foot made an audible SQUISH in the shit smear on one of the cloth wipes. I’m up to four wipes now, frantically trying to keep the shit controlled to one area and keep his feet from kicking or flinging it onto me further.

By the fourth wipe, I had almost figured out how to deal with this kind of shit. I had the wipe open in my right hand, catchers-mit-style with his ankles in my left hand, holding his legs up and he just…

It was like warm icing. And I just held him there in that position while he pooped and pooped and kept pooping. And kept pooping.

When it appeared that he finally stopped, I cleaned him thoroughly, paying careful attention to clean the shit from between his toes (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!), and sliiiiiiid his body up to the other end of the changing table. I corralled all the shitty wipes and the diaper to one corner of the changing table, rubbed my hands thoroughly with more wipes, and put a fresh clean diaper on him. I snapped the legs on his sleeper and stood him up on his feet and he just SMILED AT ME.

giphy

Now every time he nurses, I’m going to stare at him in horror because I know this shit will happen again.

This kid is going to kill me.

Leather Pits: One Month of Pit Paste and I’m Out, Dog.

April 29, 2014 by Jami Howard Mays

About two weeks ago, I noticed that my armpits were, um… dark.

Well, actually, Colin noticed and teased, “Are your armpits dirty?” And, to be honest, that’s kind of what they looked like. So… Okay, I probably need to exfoliate?

So I did… And the color didn’t fade back to my normal pit color and, about a week after that, they started to hurt. It’s hard to describe the pain — more of an ache and burning sensation that something quick and sharp, like a sting. It felt like razor burn, but I mostly ignored it.

See, I just figured I’d pound through the pain, nose down, headstrong… But seriously, this shit hurt!

I emailed the folks at Primal Pit Paste four days ago… And have had no response from them at all.

So off to Google I went.

And this is where I landed.

Specifically, this part:

If you are experiencing rash, discomfort or any other reactions to your DIY baking soda deodorant, it is NOT because your body is detoxing – it’s because you are applying an unhealthy concentration of baking soda to your armpits!

Further research keeps telling me that — for me — baking soda doesn’t work on my armpits. I mean, it WORKS in the sense that I’m not stinky. But if I can’t even bear putting my arms down because my armpits hurts so much… This is a deal breaker.

Further googling offered me some insight into treating my dark, painful armpits so I’ve been going without using anything except a simple diluted apple cider vinegar wash a few times a day. Yes, I’ve been stinky. Yes, I’ve been sweaty. Yes, this is gross. But after three days of this, my armpits are finally no longer red, though the darkening is still apparent. Ugh.

I remembered that Primal Pit Paste offered a sensitive version without baking soda. But considering I haven’t heard a reply to email at all, I’m inclined to just start fresh some place else.

I’m currently looking at this one… And thinking I might order it, but feeling OMG WHAT about the price. I’d love to find some local sources.


Update

And wouldn’t you know… Immediately after hitting publish, I get a reply from PPP:

Hi Jami!

Thank you for contacting us!

Everyone’s body chemistry is unique. Reddened, irritated or darkened armpits, as well as lumps or pimples, are usually due to an individual’s sensitivity to baking soda (sometimes for just as their body is acclimating to the baking soda pH) or essential oils.

Depending on what flavor and strength you are using your body’s reaction could be due to your sensitivity to these.

We are committed to helping you find the right PPP product that works for you.

In order to do this the best we can, and also to comply with FDA requirements, you will find a link below which will take you to our Customer Service Form. Please complete this form (multiple choice and brief description fields) and click “Submit” at the bottom.

Upon receipt of this form, we will be glad to recommend a trial size of the appropriate Primal Pit Paste that will work best for you based on the information provided, and any other applicable advice based on the symptoms you describe 🙂

Thanks for your support, we look forward to hearing back from you soon.

Which… Uh… Isn’t really inspiring a lot of hope in Primal Pit Paste as an organization. I mean, I understand needing the information on the form (it asked for things like batch number on the bottom of the stick, details on my reaction, etc) but after I submit this to them, they’re going to recommend a trial size of a different kind? You mean, like the trial size one that I already ordered and paid shipping on once before? I mean, I wasn’t expecting a refund or a replacement, but you’ve got three product levels — sensitive, regular and strong — and if the regular is bothering me, I’m fairly confident your recommendation will be to try the sensitive.

Ugh. Definitely back to the drawing board here.

One Week of Primal Pit Paste

April 6, 2014 by Jami Howard Mays

So I’m closing in on one full week of being traditional-deodorant/antiperspirant free… And I have to say, it’s been pretty awesome.

There was only one minor hiccup and, frankly, it’s more of a lesson than a hiccup. When applying, less is more… When I knew I would be sweating a lot in the garden doing yard work, I put on a LOT – like, really thick and all over my armpits… And I ended up with a rash/chafing on my armpits in the area like, around the part of my pit where the hair grows. (Does this even make sense? Is this TMI? Oh, well.) I tried to be tough and just keep on keepin’ on with the rash – it looked like heat rash, sort of – but ended up going w/o anything on my armpits except BBP for a day until it cleared up.

The kicker? Even then – without anything on – my pits didn’t stink THAT much. It wasn’t like overpowering B.O. — just a little… um, pitty? You know what I’m saying, right?

I bought a full size jar of the unscented strong formula and a stick of the regular formula. I wasn’t thrilled with the scent of the sample I bought – thyme & lemongrass – but I should have known better as, generally, I kind of hate lemongrass. The other available scents — lavender, orange creamsicle and primal spice — were not at all appealing to me. (Orange creamsicle just sounds like it would make me feel sticky…?)

I may have hippie style, but I don’t particularly like the hippie smells!

royal and roguejacked up jasmineI was pretty excited to get their newsletter (THIS IS SOMETHING I NEVER SAY) and read about their new scents coming out “this spring” – “Jacked-up Jasmine” and “Royal + Rogue” – though, neither of those are particularly exciting for me. Admittedly, I’m not sure what Royal + Rogue will smell like, but the guy on the label looks like a pirate…?

I think, honestly, I’m not sure what I “like” when it comes to fragrances. I don’t wear perfume (or, at least, I haven’t since CK One in the late 90s) and whenever I buy “body spray” type things, I usually choose something along the lines of “clean linen” or something like that. I’m not really into florals or fruity fragrances…

But the unscented is just that — unscented. And it’s pretty perfect for me…

So far, I have been successful in these activities without offending anyone with my armpits:

  • Walked two miles in the neighborhood and then went to a parent/teacher conference
  • Dug up the entire perimeter of my patio (red clay + roots!) in preparation for …
  • Transplanting irises and liriope from my front yard to the perimeter of the patio
  • Skipped a day (showered at night on Weds and not again until Friday)
  • Went a whole day w/o anything at all

I’m pretty confident that the rash issue was a result of me putting the strong formula pit paste on the more sensitive skin around my armpit, so for now, I’m focusing the pit paste on just the parts of my armpit that have hair. I have NOT noticed any sensitivity to my underarms after shaving them, which was a huge relief.

Bottom line:

I’m a believer! The ONLY downside to the product is the high cost of shipping. I wish I could buy it locally… And maybe I can, with a little pressure on some local merchants. Honestly, I haven’t even checked to see if it’s available here, but I feel like if I can convert some folks to make the switch, maybe we can convert some local merchants to start carrying it! I’m talking to you Daily Groceries!

I’m not sweating more than I sweat before when using antiperspirant (which really makes me side-eye those companies for shilling bullshit products on us so hard), so for me, this is more about what’s best for my body and health.

Review: Primal Pit Paste

March 31, 2014 by Jami Howard Mays

When I lost all the weight after Fucking Gallbladder 2013™ it caused me to take a long, hard look at my clothes. Nothing fit me anymore – I lost 36 pounds which is a whole hell of a lot on a 5′ tall person.

So, in addition to making decisions about clothes that I wouldn’t wear anymore (that one cute shrug cardigan that looks ridiculous unless it fits), I took a long hard look at my black tshirt collection.

I dress kind of like a butch lesbian in the summertime. I mean, sometimes, I wear something cute… But even then, it’s usually a variation of my uniform: jeans + tshirt + flipflops. I only wear dresses for special occasions, I don’t wear shorts and I don’t really wear heels anymore since I nearly broke my ankle three years ago.

So, I’m going through my clothes and realizing that EVERY single one of my black tshirts has chalky white pit stains from my antiperspirant. I would wear them knowing that, in a little bit, my armpits would be sweaty enough to wet the chalky stains and make them less visible.

Taking stock of yourself and realizing that you’re a disgusting person is tough stuff, guys. But I’m really ready to start being tough on this kind of stuff. When you’re counting on your antiperspirant to get your pits sweaty so that your chalky pit stains aren’t as noticeable, it’s time to consider if your ANTIperspirant is just a fucking sham.

I’ve had a lifelong struggle with deodorant. Being an athlete as a kid and teenager, I’ve carried deodorant on my person from sixth grade until I stopped working outside the home. A quick swipe when I felt icky and I thought I was doing myself a favor. But what I’ve realized is that all I’ve been doing is shellacking my pits with aluminum. With my family history of breast cancer, it’s been one of those, “Yea, I need to quit this,” things that never seems to actually get attention.

So… Mission: stop using mainstream antiperspirants. Switch to a natural deodorant and learn to live with the big, wet sweaty pits that I dread because – let’s be real – I was already dealing with big, wet sweaty pits.

gp_pp_jar_render_unscented2__91650.1387555677.1280.1280Enter, Primal Pit Paste. Going on the suggestion by a person on a local Facebook group for parents of the more natural persuasion, I ordered a sample jar of the “strong” version of pit paste. A few days later, it arrived and I put it on my bathroom sink and ignored it for a few more days.

Yesterday, I got up and, while brushing my teeth, stared down the little jar and thought, “What the hell. It’s Sunday, I’m not planning on really seeing anyone today.” I used the little miniature popsicle stick provided in the packaging, scooped out a pea-sized amount of the slick, semi-gritty paste and smeared it in my pits. Then… I forgot about it.

I drove to pickup Harrison from his dad’s… I went to a neighbor’s house and surveyed the free plants I was offered from his yard. I dug out a trench around the patio in the backyard to prep for transplanting some of these free plants… I worked with Harrison and one of his neighborhood buddies to pull weeds in the front yard and dig out an area in preparation for planting some flowers around the mailbox. I played two square with Harrison, almost killed myself falling into said plant trench. I played basketball with Colin and Harrison in the driveway. I took a nap in the hammock outside.

I did not have wet pits.

1095013_10152116513902995_1084673625_n

I repeat… I did not have wet pits.

I recollect a feeling of wetness IN my pits, but never once did the wetness translate into moisture on my shirt in my pits. I also didn’t notice a smell, though, truth be told, that’s never really been my issue so much as the sweating.

The best way I can describe the wetness in my armpits is when you run around outside for a bit and the small of your back gets a little sweaty. Your shirt doesn’t get wet, you feel the wetness on your skin and fifteen minutes later, your skin is dry and cool.

I actually think I sweat LESS than I ever have while wearing antiperspirant which is really mind blowing and is not at all what I was anticipating.

So… Now we’re on to day two. I haven’t shaved my armpits yet, but plan to later today. I’m a little worried that the baking soda in the paste will make freshly saved pits burn… But we’ll see.

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