Hippy Tushy Wipes

I've decided to take on the task of cloth diapering the latest wee-one. I'm not sure what exactly drove me to the edge of insanity, but I'm there. I feel like I may have my own private landfill already and also the pain of paying for diapers is getting a bit annoying.

I have amassed my arsenal of super cute cloth diapers and the other day I thought about the disposable wipes. I immediately called my friend who is a tried and true cloth diaper veteran and asked "ew, do you just carry the poopy wipe to the trash?" Her answer was clear and concise - "yes."

That seemed gross when you've got this stinky package all taken care of in the bin and you run through the house with smelly wipes. Also those disposables are expensive.

My next step was researching cloth wipes. Oh yes, they exist my friends and there are plenty of sites for homemade wipe solution. So I added those to my registry and was feeling pretty good.

I started gathering baby goodies given to me by lovely friends and family. I had collected a huge amount of blankies, so many that it was beyond ridiculous. I called my same cloth guru friend to see if she needed any and being the genius she is advised me to make cloth wipes out of them. BRILLIANT.

So the other day I found myself sitting at my machine edging many a small square of recycled blankie and thinking I had gone mad.



I really feel like perhaps I should be in a frontier house, or maybe tie-dying something next. But imagine all of the trash I'm avoiding, and the money I'm saving. Oh my, how many of these will I use in a day. Probably that giant stack pictured above. Well as you can see I have wipes to sew - I must be off. Hopefully this will be just what I need to keep me occupied for the next 4 weeks.

Good Intententions

From Life is Still Sweet

As modern moms we are now more more self aware, open to faults, confident in our mistakes, and perhaps carry less guilt right? I remember at the hospital when they handed me my first born and said he's hungry. Oh, right, feed the thing. They flopped him in my arms like I had a clue as to what I was doing. I waited for the natural instinct to just rise and take over. Instead apprehension, awkwardness and panic ensued. I had some instruction from the nurse and thought he was eating like a champ. Later when it seemed like there was nothing I was doing right to get him to breast feed I wept. I wept with failure, and guilt. What the heck was wrong with me?

Later at home I tried and was on the most part successful but in serious pain due to how he was latched on. I decided that I would a happier less painful me would make a much better mother for him. Low and behold I was right. And he lived, he ate, he grew and is fine.

Even to this day I am taken a back by how much pressure I put on myself to make that work. How much pride I exuded when I didn't just consult a professional on the matter. In my head it was something that should just be innate, and I failed. I don't like to fail, I don't know many people that do, but as a parent we fear failure of any form.

We've all read the articles too, encouraging mom's to stop the guilt. Bidding us to free ourselves from the bondage of expectations. However, I believe that this concept of high expectations is just as primal as the drive to feed your child. It is what has kept our kind alive. It is part of being a mom, and it has evolved.

I recently had a friend ask for advice because she wanted this, her last birth, to be natural. She felt like she had failed the previous times and wished so much to do it naturally. She also was hoping that breastfeeding would go much smoother this time around. My only advice I could think was to pray. Pray for all you want because this course of motherhood is loaded with surprises beyond any assumptions you could place on yourself. She has also decided to take on my most recent hope - cloth diapering. I never realized until listing these tasks in my head what a windy road mothers have. We want health, peace, patience, and beauty, but put all of this upon ourselves to make it happen. How can we?

I have been blessed with good deliveries, good eaters, and wonderful help (my Lolie), but honestly I gave it away with the plus sign on the stick. I was so afraid of all this failure that I told God "you do it, I can't." Sounds like defeated words, but probably the smartest thing I've ever said. This time around I feel like I don't even have to ask - He's already said "done".

Progress

All things must move forward, grow, and eventually end. This is more than likely the last time I'll get to carry one of my babies. I don't feel the need to do this again. I have 3, what more to ask for right.

This is so bitter sweet to me. I love carrying them around for 9 months. I adore that this is MY time. My time to shelter them before the world can become harsh. My time for feel every one of their movements from the small swirling, to the painful nudges. I nourish them completely and fully with out hearing "this doesn't look like an omlette."

But it can make me feel like this:



This go around has been more symptomatic. Not at all complicated or even hard. Just harder than the others. Maybe it's because the others are out here with me asking for juice, blankies, and food every 5 minutes. Of course the odd rash was not their fault, or the extremely swollen feet. But I guess when you are waiting for something so close to you to be over early you want someone or something else to blame. You don't want to carry or admit that guilt.

I have loved this despite of whatever symptom I may be feeling that day. Soon my baby will be in my arms, and my little girl will try to squeeze in. I will stare at all of them in awe and perhaps even lose all grasp of reality and think I should do this again. For now I think I should put my feet up, let this one rustle quietly around inside while I watch how quickly it grows up play around me.

Follow Me

Here I am writing another blog. This one is more for my domestic thoughts and what I love and wish for this humble little house hold. Maybe it's the burgeoning belly that makes me so reflective, but it just feels good to get some things out on a page. To see where this may lead to.

I have many ideas, wishes, aspirations, hopes and plans. Most of these are completely different than what the person I was 10, 6, or even 2 years ago wishes. I suppose that's what these people can do to ya.




My Lolie, my love has changed much about me. About who I am in God, about who I want to be in God. He's brought much more to life than a companion. He is my very best friend and I love sharing every moment of life with him. Sometimes I feel like he is my very breath and with out him I wouldn't have air. The wee-one next to him can really do a number on your heart and soul as well. With nearly 3 in the house life feels so full. Admittedly tiring at times, but they are the colors to our backdrop.

So follow me here wherever we go. I'm sure there are many a bumps, and lessons to be learned, and things to gussy up. I wouldn't have it any other way.