On Cloth Diapering

I'm not a big "green" person.  It's not that I don't care about the environment, but I admit it has never been something I give a whole lot of thought to one way or another.  So when Derek and I made the decision to go the cloth diaper route, I nodded and smiled when people commented on how "good for the environment" our decision was, but really, it was all about the money.  The money we would save.

I'm a saver.  I've gotten a kick out of budgeting and saving since I bought my first 10 speed black/hot pink bike for $100 when I was ten years old.  The thought of saving hundreds and hundreds of dollars over the next few years by NOT having to buy diapers really got me excited.

So we ordered them--all 24 of them.  Connor has had almost 7 months worth of diaper changes so far.  And now I understand why disposable diapers were invented...so that mothers who have 50 million things to do during a day can have one less thing on her list of things to do.

I'm referring to standing over a toilet and hoping that the glob of poop plops right in so as to avoid having to use the mini shower sprayer, which inevitably sprays way more than the oozing poopey diaper.  Then there's the hand "rinsing" of the diaper before putting it in a special bin where all the used diapers go.  And of course, the washing, and then the second round of washing, and the hang drying, and finally, the assembly, which now takes exactly 10 minutes for 12 diapers.  And after it's all said and done and the diapers are put away, there's a new batch of 12 that are ready for the wash.

I should at least mention that for a list person who sometimes adds things to the list that were accomplished before the list was made JUST SO I can cross something off, the revolving chore of cloth diapers is very stretching.  My task won't be done until my child is potty-trained.  But this is slightly off topic.

So what is more important to me?  Saving money or spending a little more time washing cloth diapers?  Hands down, it's saving money.  I've been in the cloth diaper trenches for a while now, but my moments of disgust and dread are far fewer than my moments of delight at the money we're saving.  Yes, it's a little more work with no end in sight (well, if we potty train at 2 years, we have 1 year, 5 months, and 1 week left), but it's worth it to me.  I would encourage anyone who's thinking about cloth diapering to know exactly what you're getting yourself into, and then go for it!

Connor sporting his cloth diaper

Time Flies When You're Having Fun

Connor is almost 7 months old.  I can't believe it.  A year ago I was working, getting bigger by the minute, and researching products like strollers, cribs, and high chairs.  I would take walks twice a day on my breaks at work.  I always sang two songs to him: "Jesus Loves You" and "ABCs".  (By the way, his favorite song is The Itsy Bitsy Spider--how did that happen?)  I remember wondering if he could hear me.  I thought about what he would look like, what kind of personality he'd have, if he'd take after me or Derek more.  Now that little person is here and time is flying.

The first few months really did feel like time just slowed down.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the newness of everything, the infant who didn't smile or giggle or blow raspberries yet.  I loved almost every second of it, but I was a little anxious for him to get older.  Now I'm ready for him to stay this age.  I feel like 1st grade is right around the corner and then he'll be headed off to college and my little boy will be a grown-up.

A few months ago, I really didn't think that I'd be one of those moms who said, "Time is really flying.  He's growing up so fast."  I thought I'd be ready for one phase to end and another to begin.  I couldn't wait for the smile, the rolling over, the sitting.  Of course I still look forward to the next stages, but he'll never be 6.5 months old again.  It makes me want to go wake him up from his nap just so I can hold him and kiss his little cheeks.  I love when I remember to savor every moment.  I wish it happened more often.

Gotta love the off-centered, curly mohawk