Cloth diapers - the good, the bad and the downright crappy

From CozyBums.ca (not someone I have purchased diapers from).

Before we had our daughter, my husband and I made the decision to go with cloth diapers.

We still use them, except at night because my daughter can really open the flood gates and I never found a cloth diaper that could contain it.

But anyway - we have used cloth diapers for more than two years now and I wouldn't change to disposables. I will use toss-aways when we're going out for a day somewhere, just because I don't always want to bring the wet bag with me, but for the most part, our daughter is in cloth.

There's no difference, really, between cloth and disposable except for what you do with them afterwards.

And when it's just a pee, cloth are a breeze.

The only time I curse cloth is when I have to clean poop off them.

When a baby is breastfed, there's no real need to spray off the poopy diapers - they come clean in the wash. No muss, no fuss.

But once they eat solids, you have to clean the diapers before you clean them, because your washer can't handle solid poops. And fair enough. I don't want to wash my own clothes after a load of poopy diapers.

So we have a spray attachment on our toilet (just a "personal bidet" - not a specific diaper sprayer because they are the same damn thing, just the diaper sprayer costs more because it's for diapers. Makes no sense).

Spraying off poop into the toilet sounds like it should be easy. But it's not. I get that shit (literally) everywhere. Pretty much every time I have to clean off a diaper, some ends up on the floor, or the side of the toilet, or my pants or slippers. Occasionally I'll have a clean go of it - when that happens, I pat myself on the back and remind myself it's not that hard.

The worst are blow-outs. While it is rare for us to have a true blow-out in cloth (where the poop escapes the diaper), what usually ends up happening is the entire diaper is covered in poop. Now where the hell am I supposed to hold it while spraying it off? While I'm sure other parents will agree ending up with poop on you by accident is no big deal - actually touching it on purpose is a whole other issue. It is not something I want to do.

And on those days, I hate cloth diapers.

Would I change to disposable? Ask me while in the middle of cleaning a poopy diaper and I would tell you immediately yes, yes I would. Ask me any other time and I'd tell you the hassle is worth it. I know I'm saving money and my toss-away diapers aren't going to be sitting in a landfill for decades. To me, that makes it worth it.

Cloth diapers I have used: AppleCheeks (good), Comfy Rumps (good), Kawaii (not my favourite), G diapers (I'm meh, by my husband prefers these ones), and a few other types of diapers.

Walmart Canada now offers a baby registry

The front page to the Walmart registry.

I am not really sure why they haven't done this before, but Walmart Canada is now offering a baby registry on its website.

Admittedly, I probably would not register at Walmart. Although I am sure lots of people would. Especially if you're using toss-away diapers. I mean, those things are bloody expensive!

I did have a registry, but I did it online through a service called BabyList. It meant that instead of sending people to one retailer, I had a list online they could reserve from and buy it wherever they wanted - hopefully on sale! (Let's be honest, gifts for babies are expensive!) Even if I listed a product from Amazon or Babies "R" Us, someone could go to Walmart or Target and buy that product, then just check it off the list.

It has been great because I've kept it up - or have tried to - so people can look for suggestions on what to get our daughter. And not that this is important, but it's cool you can change the theme when it's time for Christmas or their birthday ...

In any case, this is one of those short posts where I'm just going to say BabyList was great for us. That's it, that's all.

The front page of BabyList.

Sick and pregnant

Yes, this image from BirthSavvy.com.au is how I feel.

I am not sick of being pregnant. Not yet. But I do have a cold. And that super duper sucks.

While I know there are some things I can take, the drugs I would normally take to combat this evilness are off limits given I am "with child." Fine, fair enough, but with this cold going on two weeks now, I've just about had it.

Well-meaning friends and family offer advice. Suck on candied ginger, my mom said. Drink lemon and honey with hot water, a friend said. Get plenty of rest, my doctor said during my last OB appointment.

All pretty good advice is this were just a normal cold. But right now my right ear is plugged up and when I speak, it sounds like I'm underwater (at least to me - I don't think I'm gurgling to other people). My nose is stuffed up. And the cough ... fuck, the cough is the worst. I think I actually pulled a muscle in my side from coughing.

And while I understand it's rare, I am terrified the hacking cough I have will result in my water breaking far too soon.

I want to do exactly what the woman in the photo with this post is doing - bury my head under a pillow until it's all over.

If only I could.

Instead, I muster through. I try to relax when I can and hope it will blow over soon. I am hoping to be free of most symptoms by next weekend. It's Thanksgiving, after all, and I want to be able to taste my turkey and pumpkin pie.

It's not easy going grey

The last time I dyed my hair was in March. I remember doing it and feeling like myself again.

Gone was the lady in her mid-30s, replaced by a somewhat younger woman. And while I am in my mid-30s, I don't feel that way. I don't feel 25, but 34 just wasn't quite right.

The Duchess of Cambridge allowed herself to go a little grey
during her last pregnancy. So it should be cool, right?

Next week, I will be 35. I will celebrate with about three inches of roots, grey hairs and all.

I am terrible at getting to the salon for constant colourings, and I'm even worse at trying to do it myself. So I made the decision this past spring that for the rest of my pregnancy and the duration of my mat leave, I'd go grey. At the end, I'll see how I feel about it.

Part of it is laziness, but mostly, I'm curious to see what life with grey hair will look like. Will people assume I'm older? Will I look tired? Unkempt? Will people wonder what kind of wild children I have that would cause my hair to change colour?

The grey is not due to my darling daughter - I've been going grey for years. Before my wedding five years ago, I was fully aware of more than just the odd strand of grey. I'd say now, my hair is 15-20% grey.

I do feel like I went grey early, and because I had acne up until a few years ago, I'm not sure that's fair.

But now I need to see if I can accept the grey. Because if not now, when? Do I wait until I'm 40? 50? 65? When does it become ridiculous to colour my hair?

Next fall, I may hate the grey. But until then, I don't think anyone will notice the pregnant lady then mother of a two-year-old and infant hasn't been to see her hairdresser in months. They'll just assume I look frazzled thanks to life in general.

The great Barbie debate

My daughter turned two yesterday and her very sweet daycare provider got her a gift.

It was a Barbie.

This is the Barbie she got.

I was able to hold back my horror when I saw the doll - apparently a veterinarian, although my vet does not wear what Barbie had on - until after we left the daycare. I thanked our daycare provider and said it was so nice, "You didn't have to do that," etc. etc.

Really, though, you didn't have to do that.

I was hoping Barbie was still a far off concern - something I didn't have to worry about for at least another two years.

Why do I dislike Barbie? After all, I played with Barbie, I think I turned out pretty OK.

I can't really put my finger on it. Barbie just seems too old for a two-year-old, even if you ignore all the choking hazards that come with the doll (tiny shoes, in this case little needles to treat the toy dog that could also get lodged in my daughter's throat).

Barbie wears a lot of makeup, She is wearing a rather short dress in this particular incarnation. She's the opposite of what I am - and maybe that's why I have a hard time handing a Barbie over to my daughter.

The box says 3+, which makes more sense, but if I'm really honest, I'd prefer if my daughter ditched Barbie and played with Duplo and her Little People forever. I feel like she gets more out of playing with those kinds of toys.

My husband had a similar reaction to the Barbie as I did. Not yet. After bed, and I had to tell my daughter she couldn't take Barbie to bed, I took Barbie downstairs and we agreed to put her away for a little while.

I am sure we won't avoid Barbie forever, but I want to hold on to my newly turned two-year-old's enjoyment of other toys for just a little longer.

All by myself ... Don't wanna be, all by myself

I am technically not all by myself. I have a wonderful husband and a darling daughter. And we have a dog. He's pretty awesome.

But sometimes I wonder, where did my friends go?

For a solid five years there, my husband and I had our weekends booked seeing friends, drinking, doing stuff. I remember remarking how I wasn't this popular in high school - so what happened?

Frankly, it was a lot of fun.

Cue baby.

Sure, when our daughter was still very tiny, I took her with us and we still stayed out late. But then she hit about six months and we started a bedtime routine complete with the same time to bed every night. And here ended our carefree nights out.

All of my female friends either live too far away to call up for a quick coffee, or have also recently had children, so often also aren't available at the drop of a hat.

I've tried setting up girls' events. Dinner out. A book club with some other moms (the goal being to read novellas because who has time for a whole book?), and even simple play dates.

Nada.

The schedule of any mother, it seems, is to stay home and watch Netflix once their child goes to bed. Or that's the case in my circle of friends.

I am envious when I hear about other friends going out. I am insanely jealous of my husband's semi-regular boys' nights (spent mostly playing a game and having a beer or two).

I don't help my cause - I work an early morning shift so get up at 4:30 a.m.-ish each weekday, meaning a weeknight is out for me. But I also am not sure it would make a difference.

I can see why moms turn to Facebook and over share - it's the only way some people can make a connection.

I tried an online forum for a bit, but the atmosphere reminded me too much of high school, except here the mean girls had avatars with cupcakes and rainbows and names like aLlInEeDiSLOVE or something similarly stupid.

Sigh.

Oh, woe is me, cue the tiny violin and listen to the mom bitch about how all her friends have forsaken her. It's a fairly common refrain.

I just never thought I'd be the one saying it.

The fast-approaching birthday party

Oh wow. Next weekend is our daughter's birthday party and beyond getting a cake ordered and inviting people, nothing is planned.

Pinterest fanatics shudder at the thought.

The thing is, I used to be very organized. I used to love planning parties for our friends. I was GOOD at it.

But now, with a toddler and being pregnant (god, please don't ask what month I am ... My lack of attention to this pregnancy is a whole other post), plus commuting two hours daily for my full-time job, my brain is mush. I'm lucky I remember how to use basic appliances.

But while a part of me feels like I should feel like a failure, I don't. I used to be a perfectionist, but now think, "It'll happen. I'll get it done." If something doesn't happen, others won't know it.

I didn't get balloons? Maybe I didn't want them. No special shirt for the birthday girl? Maybe I think they're cheesy. No cutlery? OK, that people would notice ...

But so long as there is food, drink and cake, plus the little girl we're celebrating, there will be a party and, in the eyes of most people, it will be an enjoyable day. And sometimes, that just has to be good enough.

Oh god, teething

How is it we have not evolved as humans to the point where teething doesn't hurt?

Our daughter, M, has been working on her eye teeth for what feels like forever.

Last weekend was the worst its been in a long time - frequent wakings, crying, and she was just not herself at all.

I hate teething not because of what my daughter becomes during the process, but because I feel rather helpless. Of course, like any parent, if I could take on that pain for her I would. I can give her some children's pain medication, but it doesn't seem to help for long.

And why must teething be joined by cold-like symptoms? The cough, the runny nose ... I mean, come on already, evolution. This is completely unnecessary. Just like wisdom teeth (which so many of us have to have removed anyway). Some people don't get wisdom teeth, yet teething still has to hurt?

Thankfully, M is starting to feel more like herself again, although the teeth have yet to actually break through the gums. Fingers crossed things go better for our wee girl.

Mommy bloggers, amiright?

This photo has nothing really to do with this post.

Is there anything more annoying that a mommy blogger?

Strange question to ask, I suppose, seeing as I'm once again embarking on becoming one.

But I have to admit, reading other mommy blogs sometimes make me feel bad about myself. Those women seem to be able to do it all and have it all, or, at the other end of the spectrum, they complain about life with children.

I do not have it all. I cannot do it all. But I still love every minute of being a mom.

Gag, I know.

I have tried to do this blogging thing before, but my biggest mistake, I think, was always trying to offer words of wisdom. It's tiring trying to come up with advice and tidbits to help other parents learn from my mistakes.

So this little blog, I'm hoping, will just be whatever. Some days, I may post links to thinks I find funny. Some days, I'll write about how I regret our choice to cloth diaper every time my daughter poops because cleaning those things can be a bitch. Oh yeah, and I'll swear. I do that.

Oh yeah, that butter tart photo? I love butter tarts.