Right now, Everett's napping. On me.
It's not a behavior I like to encourage, but sometimes I feel willing to do almost anything to get this kid to sleep. See, we're struggling a little with "nap time" and what that means to Everett. To Mommy and Daddy, that's the roughly-two-hour period that comes right after Awake Time and directly before Eating Time. To Everett, it's more of a free-form experience...
Initially falling asleep is usually (not always!) pretty easy. And once he's down, Everett will usually (again, not always!) stay asleep for about 40 minutes to an hour. This is where the process usually (but thankfully not always) becomes difficult -- The Transition! [In an old scary movie, saying these words would trigger ominous organ chords, a rumble of thunder, and a crash of lightning.]
FYI, an infant's sleep cycle is approximately 45-minutes-long. So after almost an hour of good, sound sleep, the baby stirs a little, maybe wakes up, and then should drift back to sleep for another round of restful REM. *Should* being the key word in that sentence. With Everett, this is not always the case. For some reason, after one cycle, he thinks it's wake-up-time. I've tried to convince him otherwise...with little success.
Sometimes, I resort to swinging Everett back to sleep. Thankfully, our cushy papasan-style, music-playing Fisher Price model is not one of the hand-crank-style swings of yore! Most of the time, the swing works like a champ, and Everett gets another hour or so of sleep (which means I get another hour or so of baby-free time during which I can do dishes, laundry, etc., etc.). Unfortunately, there are those days -- today being one of them -- when Everett wants very little to do with the swing. *sigh*
So I walk him to sleep. And because he seems to have some kind of sixth sense about being put down and left alone when he's asleep, he often ends up waking up and fussing before I've even lowered him into his crib. I'm convinced the only reason he sleeps in his crib during Sleep Cycle 1, is because somehow that first cycle is much deeper, sounder sleep......or something like that. Regardless, he seems much less amenable to crib sleeping during Cycle 2. *sigh*
And alas, I end up here -- sitting in front of my computer (because there's not really much else you can do with a sleeping baby on your shoulder), just counting minutes until Everett wakes up. Because he's not sleeping really soundly, this segment of his nap could last 10 minutes...maybe 15. Or he could just decide he's really pretty comfortable, which means I'm in it for the long-haul -- we're talking 30, 40 minutes, even more than an hour of holding a 12-pound baby against my body with one arm. And that's when it goes numb.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
"...All I've got is two strong arms..."
 |
| "...to hold you so tightly..." |
"If I had a Million" by Pat Green. It's the first song Jason and I danced to at our wedding four years ago.
Wow, four years.
It's kinda hard to believe that everything that's happened to us since then has all been crammed into four little years. It sure does go by quickly.
Many times during these four years, I have said the words "I did not sign up for this!" Feeling homesick the first night my parents leave after helping us move to Maryland? Missing so many special family occasions -- weddings, births...even deaths? Being lonely for six months while my husband goes to Iraq? Having our family uprooted and moved across the country...or across the ocean? There is NO freaking way I bargained for all this!!!
Wait. Yes, I did. Those little words "for better or worse" are pretty much all-inclusive.
And while I may have bitched plenty......I have also celebrated and danced and laughed and reveled with this man to whom I committed my life. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart. I love you.
"If I had a Million"
If I had a million I would build you a mansion,
A hundred miles from nowhere with all a girl could need,
We would run through the hallways and dance in the backyard,
If we ain't got no neighbors ain't no one will see.
And if I had a speed plane we'd fly across the land,
Settle in some little border town,
We'd drink margaritas and dance to mariachis,
Put you on my speed plane and I would bring you back home.
And if I had a steamboat we'd sail across the ocean,
Dock in some little port of call,
We would have a fine time with Swiss cheese and French wine,
Put you on my steamboat and I would bring you back home.
But I ain't got a million and I ain't got a speed plane,
I ain't got no boat upon the sea,
All I've got is two strong arms to hold you so tightly,
So baby won't you, won't you please, come back home with me.
A hundred miles from nowhere with all a girl could need,
We would run through the hallways and dance in the backyard,
If we ain't got no neighbors ain't no one will see.
And if I had a speed plane we'd fly across the land,
Settle in some little border town,
We'd drink margaritas and dance to mariachis,
Put you on my speed plane and I would bring you back home.
And if I had a steamboat we'd sail across the ocean,
Dock in some little port of call,
We would have a fine time with Swiss cheese and French wine,
Put you on my steamboat and I would bring you back home.
But I ain't got a million and I ain't got a speed plane,
I ain't got no boat upon the sea,
All I've got is two strong arms to hold you so tightly,
So baby won't you, won't you please, come back home with me.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The Sweet Luxury of Baking
Fancy cars. Designer clothes. European vacations. Spa treatments.
These are things that most people would consider "luxuries". Not I.
I love to bake. I L-O-V-E, love to bake. Usually sweet treats. Usually cupcakes. For me, these days, baking is a luxury.
I used to bake all the time -- homemade bread, chocolate chip cookies, all kinds of cupcakes! Even when I was working crazy overtime in my previous life as an architect, I made time to bake. If there was the option of A) getting 5 hours of sleep, or B) getting 4 hours of sleep and having time to make scones for breakfast -- I know that doesn't even seem like a *sane* "option" for most of you; sleep is kind of a no-brainer for most normal people -- I would almost always choose whichever option included baking. Maybe I have a problem.
Anyway, since Everett's been born, I've had to cut WAY back on the amount of baking I do. Believe me, the desire is still there. But lately, when given such options as A) put Everett down for a nap and do something that can be easily interrupted if need be, or B) start combining ingredients knowing that I'll have to stop halfway through and abandon my latest baking conquest, I'm more likely to choose...
Oh, wait. Everett just woke up and needs to eat. (See what I mean...?)
Aaand, we're back......like three hours later.
Anyway, I was just saying that it's much easier to stop doing the dishes or folding the laundry or sending an email or typing a blog if Everett needs my attention, than to walk away from a preheated oven and half-mixed cupcake batter.
Yesterday, I got brave. I pulled out a recipe, started compiling ingredients from the pantry and fridge, and plugged in the hand mixer. Everett was sleeping pretty soundly, and I guessed I had at least an hour of naptime left during which to get something in and out of the oven. We have a surplus of zucchini coming out of our garden right now, and I just got a recipe from a friend for chocolate-zucchini cake with cinnamon-cream cheese frosting, so it was obvious that I needed to somehow generate cupcakes using these two things.
I started measuring out ingredients and mixing them together, double- and triple-checking the recipe as I went. Since it was a recipe I'd never made before, I didn't want to screw it up, but this cost me precious minutes. When the batter was ready to bake, I couldn't decide which cupcake format I preferred (standard vs. mini), so I prepped for both. I filled the mini cups and took a wild guess at the bake-time. Right before the timer went off, Everett started stirring. Damn.
I had to test the cupcakes and reset the timer a few times before they were actually finished, and by that time Everett was awake and demanding my attention. But I still had a tray of raw, standard-sized cupcakes sitting on the counter! Everett did not seem to really care what I had going on. He just knew that he did not want to be swaddled and alone anymore.
I went to let Everett know that I knew he was awake and I was nearby. Then I rushed back to the kitchen to put the tray into the oven. Then I rushed back to Everett who was alerting me of his wet diaper. Then I rushed back to the kitchen to set the timer that I forgot to set. Then I rushed back to Everett to actually change the wet diaper. Fortunately, the bigger cupcakes took longer than 20 minutes to bake, so I had a good chunk of time that I could spend with Everett uninterrupted.
When that timer went off, I had to set Everett down (I'm not crazy -- I'm not about to hold a three-month-old within inches of a 350-degree oven!) in order to run and check on the cupcakes, which were of course not finished baking. So we did the "pick Everett up for a few minutes, then set him back down again to run and check the cupcakes" dance for the next 10 minutes or so, and FINALLY they were done. Just my luck, the one day I decide to bake while Jason's at school just so happens to be a day that Everett is feeling particularly "needy". *sigh* That'll teach me.
Making and applying the frosting to the cupcakes was a whole other undertaking that had to be fit-in between feedings and diaper changes. But oh......it was so worth it! It just felt good to stand back and look at my finished cupcakes. I was happy I got to bake, and relieved that a new recipe came out so well! It was not without its challenges, but at least I don't feel like I neglected Everett too much in the process. I'm definitely not about to start a regimen of daily afternoon baking sessions, but maybe every once in a while I can still indulge in my little luxury. :)
And yes, they were delicious!
These are things that most people would consider "luxuries". Not I.
I love to bake. I L-O-V-E, love to bake. Usually sweet treats. Usually cupcakes. For me, these days, baking is a luxury.
I used to bake all the time -- homemade bread, chocolate chip cookies, all kinds of cupcakes! Even when I was working crazy overtime in my previous life as an architect, I made time to bake. If there was the option of A) getting 5 hours of sleep, or B) getting 4 hours of sleep and having time to make scones for breakfast -- I know that doesn't even seem like a *sane* "option" for most of you; sleep is kind of a no-brainer for most normal people -- I would almost always choose whichever option included baking. Maybe I have a problem.
Anyway, since Everett's been born, I've had to cut WAY back on the amount of baking I do. Believe me, the desire is still there. But lately, when given such options as A) put Everett down for a nap and do something that can be easily interrupted if need be, or B) start combining ingredients knowing that I'll have to stop halfway through and abandon my latest baking conquest, I'm more likely to choose...
Oh, wait. Everett just woke up and needs to eat. (See what I mean...?)
Aaand, we're back......like three hours later.
Anyway, I was just saying that it's much easier to stop doing the dishes or folding the laundry or sending an email or typing a blog if Everett needs my attention, than to walk away from a preheated oven and half-mixed cupcake batter.
Yesterday, I got brave. I pulled out a recipe, started compiling ingredients from the pantry and fridge, and plugged in the hand mixer. Everett was sleeping pretty soundly, and I guessed I had at least an hour of naptime left during which to get something in and out of the oven. We have a surplus of zucchini coming out of our garden right now, and I just got a recipe from a friend for chocolate-zucchini cake with cinnamon-cream cheese frosting, so it was obvious that I needed to somehow generate cupcakes using these two things.
I started measuring out ingredients and mixing them together, double- and triple-checking the recipe as I went. Since it was a recipe I'd never made before, I didn't want to screw it up, but this cost me precious minutes. When the batter was ready to bake, I couldn't decide which cupcake format I preferred (standard vs. mini), so I prepped for both. I filled the mini cups and took a wild guess at the bake-time. Right before the timer went off, Everett started stirring. Damn.
I had to test the cupcakes and reset the timer a few times before they were actually finished, and by that time Everett was awake and demanding my attention. But I still had a tray of raw, standard-sized cupcakes sitting on the counter! Everett did not seem to really care what I had going on. He just knew that he did not want to be swaddled and alone anymore.
I went to let Everett know that I knew he was awake and I was nearby. Then I rushed back to the kitchen to put the tray into the oven. Then I rushed back to Everett who was alerting me of his wet diaper. Then I rushed back to the kitchen to set the timer that I forgot to set. Then I rushed back to Everett to actually change the wet diaper. Fortunately, the bigger cupcakes took longer than 20 minutes to bake, so I had a good chunk of time that I could spend with Everett uninterrupted.
When that timer went off, I had to set Everett down (I'm not crazy -- I'm not about to hold a three-month-old within inches of a 350-degree oven!) in order to run and check on the cupcakes, which were of course not finished baking. So we did the "pick Everett up for a few minutes, then set him back down again to run and check the cupcakes" dance for the next 10 minutes or so, and FINALLY they were done. Just my luck, the one day I decide to bake while Jason's at school just so happens to be a day that Everett is feeling particularly "needy". *sigh* That'll teach me.
Making and applying the frosting to the cupcakes was a whole other undertaking that had to be fit-in between feedings and diaper changes. But oh......it was so worth it! It just felt good to stand back and look at my finished cupcakes. I was happy I got to bake, and relieved that a new recipe came out so well! It was not without its challenges, but at least I don't feel like I neglected Everett too much in the process. I'm definitely not about to start a regimen of daily afternoon baking sessions, but maybe every once in a while I can still indulge in my little luxury. :)
And yes, they were delicious!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
"Yay for poopies!" ...and other phrases that have become part of my Mom-vocabulary...
I wouldn't say that I'm overly squeamish, but there are definitely things in this world that just plain gross me out. It could be the way something looks, the way a word sounds, or sometimes just the mere thought of something mildly disgusting.
My sister majored in Biology in college -- good for her. I took Biology in high school, but that's about as much as I could muster. I just can't stand learning about cells, and creatures, and bodily functions........ Blech. (I feel a little gaggy just thinking about it.)
Anyway, back when I found out I was pregnant, there were a lot of things happening to my body that I felt it important to educate myself about. All of a sudden, I'm reading books that go into very specific detail about very specific bodily functions. And there are pictures, sometimes photos, in these books that are very graphic. And I just take it all in stride.
As Jason and I discussed many times during my pregnancy, sometimes there is just no other way to describe a pussing, oozing, infected wound than to use those exact words. And at some point I'm going to have an injured child at the doctor's office and we'll be speaking in these very terms. (And yes, I would cringe every time we had that discussion.) Jason said that part of having a child is having to deal with the gross stuff along with the cutesy stuff. Yes, he is correct.
When I used to think about my birth experience, I always imagined that I would deliver the baby, they would take it away and clean it up, and then I would have my moment with our sparkling new baby. Funny how something like a little amniotic fluid (among other random dirtiness) can seem so disgusting one second, and the very next second you're kissing and caressing your dirty, slimy newborn. I think that's when things changed for me.
I realized that 1) maybe it's really not quite as disgusting as I imagined (often, I think this is true -- the perceived grossness far outweighs the actual grossness), 2) if I'm going to manage taking care of an infant (most of the day, alone), I'll just have to be okay with vomit, poop, and the like, and 3) it's okay if there are still things that make my stomach churn -- that's when I call on Jason to handle the situation!
Anyway, back to what this post was supposed to be about...
I thought I'd share a random sampling of colorful phrases that have worked their way into my daily dialogue. I honestly never thought I'd hear myself speak some of these things...at least not so frequently and with way less gagging than I ever thought possible. Enjoy.
"Yay for poopies!" -- Seriously? I'm actually applauding defecation? You betcha! When I see what the strain of pooping sometimes does to poor Everett, I am dancing for joy when he finally fills that diaper!
"Wow, Everett, you have lots of boogies in your nose!" -- Okay, so maybe boogers aren't all that disgusting, but I just never thought I would so freely comment on the quantity and or consistency of said boogers. (And it is totally okay to make yucky things seem more tolerable by calling them something semi-cutesy...like "boogies".)
"That's okay. Mommy doesn't mind the spit-up." -- Sometimes it's just a little...and sometimes it's a lot. A lot. But really, if I freaked out every time Everett launched regurgitated breastmilk at me, just think how freaked out he would be! It's important to maintain composure...even with spit-up running down your arm (and neck, and back, and in your hair).
"Blah, blah, blah...mucous plug...blah, blah, blah...bloody show...blah, blah, blah...placenta..." -- Sorry, I know those phrases might be a little too yucky for some of you. Don't worry, I'm not going to start describing them. If you're really curious, look them up. These choice phrases come out when I'm telling my birth story. Sure I lower the volume of my voice slightly when uttering these words (after all, who wants to be sipping a latte at a coffee shop and overhear THAT?!), but I don't even flinch with disgust anymore! Go me!
"grainy", "liquid-y", "yellow", "greenish", "sticky", "stinky", etc., etc. -- Three guesses what these words have been used to describe.
And one of my personal favorites:
"Hey, Babe, can you come watch the baby for a sec? I gotta wash the poop off my fingers." -- I don't care how many diapers you've changed, or how good at it you think you are, at some point you are just going to end up with poop on your hands. The mere idea of this used to give me the chills. ("Oh. My. Goodness. Poop ON me...?!") But now I'm not really phased. It does wash off, people.
I imagine that my Mommy-dialogue will become more entertaining over time. I only hope I never lose my sense of humor about these things. :)
My sister majored in Biology in college -- good for her. I took Biology in high school, but that's about as much as I could muster. I just can't stand learning about cells, and creatures, and bodily functions........ Blech. (I feel a little gaggy just thinking about it.)
Anyway, back when I found out I was pregnant, there were a lot of things happening to my body that I felt it important to educate myself about. All of a sudden, I'm reading books that go into very specific detail about very specific bodily functions. And there are pictures, sometimes photos, in these books that are very graphic. And I just take it all in stride.
As Jason and I discussed many times during my pregnancy, sometimes there is just no other way to describe a pussing, oozing, infected wound than to use those exact words. And at some point I'm going to have an injured child at the doctor's office and we'll be speaking in these very terms. (And yes, I would cringe every time we had that discussion.) Jason said that part of having a child is having to deal with the gross stuff along with the cutesy stuff. Yes, he is correct.
When I used to think about my birth experience, I always imagined that I would deliver the baby, they would take it away and clean it up, and then I would have my moment with our sparkling new baby. Funny how something like a little amniotic fluid (among other random dirtiness) can seem so disgusting one second, and the very next second you're kissing and caressing your dirty, slimy newborn. I think that's when things changed for me.
I realized that 1) maybe it's really not quite as disgusting as I imagined (often, I think this is true -- the perceived grossness far outweighs the actual grossness), 2) if I'm going to manage taking care of an infant (most of the day, alone), I'll just have to be okay with vomit, poop, and the like, and 3) it's okay if there are still things that make my stomach churn -- that's when I call on Jason to handle the situation!
Anyway, back to what this post was supposed to be about...
I thought I'd share a random sampling of colorful phrases that have worked their way into my daily dialogue. I honestly never thought I'd hear myself speak some of these things...at least not so frequently and with way less gagging than I ever thought possible. Enjoy.
"Yay for poopies!" -- Seriously? I'm actually applauding defecation? You betcha! When I see what the strain of pooping sometimes does to poor Everett, I am dancing for joy when he finally fills that diaper!
"Wow, Everett, you have lots of boogies in your nose!" -- Okay, so maybe boogers aren't all that disgusting, but I just never thought I would so freely comment on the quantity and or consistency of said boogers. (And it is totally okay to make yucky things seem more tolerable by calling them something semi-cutesy...like "boogies".)
"That's okay. Mommy doesn't mind the spit-up." -- Sometimes it's just a little...and sometimes it's a lot. A lot. But really, if I freaked out every time Everett launched regurgitated breastmilk at me, just think how freaked out he would be! It's important to maintain composure...even with spit-up running down your arm (and neck, and back, and in your hair).
"Blah, blah, blah...mucous plug...blah, blah, blah...bloody show...blah, blah, blah...placenta..." -- Sorry, I know those phrases might be a little too yucky for some of you. Don't worry, I'm not going to start describing them. If you're really curious, look them up. These choice phrases come out when I'm telling my birth story. Sure I lower the volume of my voice slightly when uttering these words (after all, who wants to be sipping a latte at a coffee shop and overhear THAT?!), but I don't even flinch with disgust anymore! Go me!
"grainy", "liquid-y", "yellow", "greenish", "sticky", "stinky", etc., etc. -- Three guesses what these words have been used to describe.
And one of my personal favorites:
"Hey, Babe, can you come watch the baby for a sec? I gotta wash the poop off my fingers." -- I don't care how many diapers you've changed, or how good at it you think you are, at some point you are just going to end up with poop on your hands. The mere idea of this used to give me the chills. ("Oh. My. Goodness. Poop ON me...?!") But now I'm not really phased. It does wash off, people.
I imagine that my Mommy-dialogue will become more entertaining over time. I only hope I never lose my sense of humor about these things. :)
Monday, July 18, 2011
"It's the little things..."
I used to say that phrase all the time, sort of "tongue-in-cheek". But now that I have a 12-week-old baby, I realize how much truth lies in that statement.
This is Everett:
This photo was taken mere moments after putting a new diaper on his bum. The child is ecstatic!
Granted, he's a pretty happy baby overall. And he definitely has his fair share of smiley-time when Jason and I are playing with him. But there are those times when we try in vain to get him to "perform" in front of a live video camera, or we're trying desperately to capture the picture-perfect grin on his face... *sigh* ...to no avail.
Too bad we didn't figure out sooner that the best way to get this kid to smile is to give him a clean, dry diaper! He LOVES having clean drawers on!
Seriously, Everett has a problem with dirty pants. Yes, if I was sitting in my own filth, it would surely bother the heck out of me, too! But most babies will sort of tolerate a wet diaper...at least for a while. Jason and I thought in the beginning that we could really get our money's worth out of every single diaper -- maybe don't change it the second it's wet; maybe wait until it's poopy, too -- brilliant!
Um, no.
Everett is one of those "high maintenance" babies when it comes to diapers. There are times when he will be crying inconsolably, and we start going through the checklist: we just changed him, he just made a big poopy so we know he's not struggling with that, he just ate, he hasn't been awake long enough to need another nap, he's dressed comfortably, we're holding him at this very minute so we know he's not lonely... And then we check his diaper (just in case). And it's wet. Again.
And it is not uncommon for a diaper-changing session to go something like this: Everett pooped (diaper #1), so we take off the dirty diaper, clean his bottom and slide a clean diaper (diaper #2) under him. Just as we're fastening the new one onto his body, he poops again (I guess he wasn't finished). So we repeat the previous step of cleaning him and getting a new diaper (diaper #3) to put on him. But wait -- just before we close up the newest diaper, the wind blows just right and Everett starts to pee all over the place. (We usually do a pretty good job of blocking, but sometimes we get so caught up in the multiple-diaper changes that we forget about that little guy down there.) So now this newest diaper (still #3) isn't wet or dirty on the inside, but it's now drenched in pee, and we just can't bring ourselves to towel it off and fasten it onto his body. So we have to throw that one away, strip off all his pee-soaked clothes, and get out yet another diaper. *sigh* Finally, we're looking down at our very, very happy (now naked) little baby, and we're closing up diaper #4. That's right -- four diapers in one change! And this is how we can sometimes go through 100 disposable diapers in a week. (We should have bought stock in Pampers.)
So whether we're using four diapers at a time, or just changing the boy every half-hour, it seems like we really do use a lot of diapers. Which is why I've decided to employ cloth diapers for some of our at-home time. Jason and I are both of the opinion that cloth-diapering is a bit fussy to mess with when you're out running errands, but it's really not so bad when you're just hanging around the house all day. And believe me, it definitely saves us from buying disposables as frequently!
One thing I really don't mind, though... I LOVE seeing that gummy smile on his face! I never get tired of it, even if it is just from the simple pleasure of having a clean tush. I guess maybe it's the "little things" that really please us both. :)
This is Everett:
This photo was taken mere moments after putting a new diaper on his bum. The child is ecstatic!
Granted, he's a pretty happy baby overall. And he definitely has his fair share of smiley-time when Jason and I are playing with him. But there are those times when we try in vain to get him to "perform" in front of a live video camera, or we're trying desperately to capture the picture-perfect grin on his face... *sigh* ...to no avail.
Too bad we didn't figure out sooner that the best way to get this kid to smile is to give him a clean, dry diaper! He LOVES having clean drawers on!
Seriously, Everett has a problem with dirty pants. Yes, if I was sitting in my own filth, it would surely bother the heck out of me, too! But most babies will sort of tolerate a wet diaper...at least for a while. Jason and I thought in the beginning that we could really get our money's worth out of every single diaper -- maybe don't change it the second it's wet; maybe wait until it's poopy, too -- brilliant!
Um, no.
Everett is one of those "high maintenance" babies when it comes to diapers. There are times when he will be crying inconsolably, and we start going through the checklist: we just changed him, he just made a big poopy so we know he's not struggling with that, he just ate, he hasn't been awake long enough to need another nap, he's dressed comfortably, we're holding him at this very minute so we know he's not lonely... And then we check his diaper (just in case). And it's wet. Again.
And it is not uncommon for a diaper-changing session to go something like this: Everett pooped (diaper #1), so we take off the dirty diaper, clean his bottom and slide a clean diaper (diaper #2) under him. Just as we're fastening the new one onto his body, he poops again (I guess he wasn't finished). So we repeat the previous step of cleaning him and getting a new diaper (diaper #3) to put on him. But wait -- just before we close up the newest diaper, the wind blows just right and Everett starts to pee all over the place. (We usually do a pretty good job of blocking, but sometimes we get so caught up in the multiple-diaper changes that we forget about that little guy down there.) So now this newest diaper (still #3) isn't wet or dirty on the inside, but it's now drenched in pee, and we just can't bring ourselves to towel it off and fasten it onto his body. So we have to throw that one away, strip off all his pee-soaked clothes, and get out yet another diaper. *sigh* Finally, we're looking down at our very, very happy (now naked) little baby, and we're closing up diaper #4. That's right -- four diapers in one change! And this is how we can sometimes go through 100 disposable diapers in a week. (We should have bought stock in Pampers.)
So whether we're using four diapers at a time, or just changing the boy every half-hour, it seems like we really do use a lot of diapers. Which is why I've decided to employ cloth diapers for some of our at-home time. Jason and I are both of the opinion that cloth-diapering is a bit fussy to mess with when you're out running errands, but it's really not so bad when you're just hanging around the house all day. And believe me, it definitely saves us from buying disposables as frequently!
One thing I really don't mind, though... I LOVE seeing that gummy smile on his face! I never get tired of it, even if it is just from the simple pleasure of having a clean tush. I guess maybe it's the "little things" that really please us both. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)