Here's To Silly!

So, a friend of mine (mid-sentence aside that has nothing to do with anything, but I just realized that I start a lot of posts, sentences, emails, and all kinds of semi-important things with the word "so."  It might be annoying, but I'm not sure I'm ready to stop) recently posted on her blog about her experience with high school PE.  It, of course, made me think of my own experiences, some good, some bad.  With the good came thoughts of Miss Buckley (a former weight lifter and Miss Universe [or something equally exciting] contestant, if the stories are true) and water aerobics.  It was my first introduction to the pursuit, so I had no idea of its connection to little old ladies.  Miss Buckley was anything but.  The seventeen girls in the class (and one lone boy who we all thought was strange until we realized maybe he was more wily than strange) were anything but.  The music we aerobic-ed to was for those who were anything but.  I loved me some water aerobics.  I still would, were they an option in my current situation, but there are no instructors here and I don't quite feel up to doing it myself (the instructing or just the aerobics). 

Anyway . . . as I pondered nostalgically the days of the water aerobic, I remembered my awkward attempt at taking a social/political stance.  We all wore swimsuits.  We all showered after class.  Not being in individual stalls, we all wore swimsuits in the shower.  I remember thinking to myself, "Self, this is silliness.  For certain boys don't shower in anything but the nude when in a locker room.  No one here is going to look or care if we just shower how showers are meant to be taken.  This is less comfortable and less effective.  Why are girls so silly?"  The next day in the shower, I proceeded to take my suit off and really shower.  My goodness, the stares of shock and horror were sharp.  I never did it again. I'd like to think today I'd be stronger in my stance against such silliness (which is strange, since in general I support all kinds of silliness; the principle is different, I'm sure).  However, I also realize now that in fighting the silliness, I was making 16 other girls uncomfortable.  At what point would value of their discomfort outweigh my own (as well as the importance of what was actually logical)? 

As I navigate my life now (my goodness, could that have really been half a lifetime ago?), I realize that I have always had a strange relationship with modesty.  I'm all for covering up what should be covered, except for when it's silly.  Back then is was a swimsuit, now it's a nursing cover.  I'll tell you what, the nursing cover (or lack thereof) is an issue that deals with a lot less skin, but seems to provoke even more social dander.  Still, my reasoning is the same.  It's less comfortable, more difficult, and less effective for me to nurse with everything, including Bean, covered up.  The social ire, of course, ruffles my feathers.  Turns out, instead of a nice, obedient (oppositional defiance aside), sweet and appropriate girl, I was meant to be a political activist.  It probably was my life's calling, but I missed it to be a mommy.  Putting it that way, I'm glad I did.  That's not to say a little activism won't creep up now and then, especially as it relates to being a mommy.

Conclusion:  Standing up for what you believe in takes more than gumption.  It takes diplomacy.

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Have I ever mentioned to you how much I adore my husband?  It's a lot.  And the reasons to adore him just keep adding up. 

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:
Conclusion: Nice guys don't just make great husbands, they're good dads, too.

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This blog post has been on my mind quite a bit the past few days. 

Conclusion:  Sometimes what gets labeled "progress" isn't actually progress at all.

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Tonight seems like a good time to discuss my experience thus far with cloth diapers.  Why tonight, you ask?  Well, tonight was my first experience with a true blow out.  I mean, there was poop everywhere.  From what I hear, waiting three months to get one of those is nothing short of a miracle.  A miracle that I have attributed to my use of fancy-pants (really). 

Anyway, I don't even remember when I decided to use cloth diapers.  It was probably around 9th grade, when my favorite t-shirt said: "If you hurt the trees, the birdies won't have anywhere to sit" and I thought I was all kinds of environmentally aware.  Basically, the thought of all the waste that comes with disposables was hard for my little hippie heart to handle.  Of course, I didn't focus on the details (i.e. poop), because that would make it too real. 

I got older and my friends had babies.  Some of them used cloth diapers and shared some information regarding both the benefits of cloth diapering and the modernization of the cloth diaper.  I was hooked.  Once I knew Bean was on her way, I started researching for real.  I chose the Rumparooz One-size pocket diaper and spent what felt like a small fortune on a starter set.  They came and I oohed and ahhed over the cuteness and convenience.  I pre-washed, stuffed, and stored them, and then waited anxiously to have a baby to put them on.  Then the "anxious" took another turn.  I was nervous to use them.  What if they didn't work?  What if I couldn't handle the poop?  What if I had wasted all that money (even more than most folks, we really don't have money to waste)?  What if . . . .?

I didn't take the diapers to the hospital.  I figured meconium was a great reason to use disposables.  Then I realized that Bean had a tender little stump that the cloth diapers would cover.  I had just been worried about irritation, but I learned that keeping it dry was paramount, not easy to do when cover with damp cloth.  The first night home, Wonderman and my mom went to buy a pack of disposables.  I felt defeated, as though I had abandoned my ideals.   Would anyone know?  If they knew, would they judge me after I had ranted and raved about the importance of cloth diapers?  I felt like such a failure (over-emotional much?  especially just one day after giving birth?).  That package of diapers was my first experience with diaper-changing of any kind in literally decades (Wonderman did all the hospital diapering and my baby experience was almost non-existent).  It was so easy.  Just wipe and toss.  I felt guilty, but I loved (as much as you can love anything related to diapering) it.  Plus, the diapers were so tiny, I wasn't coming anywhere near the huge garbage cans full of just diapers that I had seen my neighbors putting out on the curb.  I was in a good place.  Bean's stub continued to hold on.  We bought another pack of disposables.  Part of me cringed, the other breathed a sigh of relief. 

The day her stub fell off, I was nearing the end of a pack of diapers, and I realized that my moment of truth had come.  I was tired and stressed and she wasn't sleeping well and I missed my husband and I was by that time terrified of what the switch to cloth would entail (more work on changing and more laundry that had to be done).  My mommy (remember, I was staying with my mom and Bill while Wonderman went back to the island for school?) reassured me that it would be ok if I waited a while.  Another package of disposables entered my life.  I honestly don't even know how many we went through before I decided I was ready to jump in and try cloth.  I told my mom, and she bought me another pack of disposables - I could sense her lack of faith.  She said it was because there was a big storm coming and it was better to have them than not.  How wise her words were.

I remember the first cloth diaper I put on Bean.  It was purple.  And soft.  And so cute.  And it leaked within twenty minutes of me putting it on her.  She was laying on her side to nurse and urine just poured right out onto my lap as though the diaper had been a spigot and not absorbent at all.  Not what I'd call an auspicious beginning.  I switched it for another.  It also leaked, this time in back.  Again I tried.  Again it leaked.  100% of the tries ended in leakage.  I was grateful to retreat to the Pampers (I must say, if disposables must be in the mix, I prefer Pampers to Huggies.  Huggies left gel balls on Bean's bum.  No good.  Target's store brand also worked quite well for us). 

I did more internet research.  Rumparooz had rave reviews all around, that's part of why I bought them.  I contacted the company and got some good advice.  More importantly, I reviewed the sizing info and realized that while Bean was a newborn, she wasn't technically newborn size.  I increased the size, which allowed for an increase in insert absorption power.  I still remember the sense of accomplishment I felt after using solely cloth diapers for a week.  I have had essentially zero problems since.  Once in a while there will be a tiny bit of leakage because I, in my negligence, have left Bean in a diaper for too long and it just can't hold any more.  When she wore tights to church, they wicked the moisture nicely so I always had to toss tights in the wash.  Nothing serious.  The diapers were miraculous.  I had none of the blow-outs that my new-mommy peers were experiencing.  I had a baby with such a cutely-clad bum.  All was well. 

Until tonight.  I heard her working on it, as I often do.  I teasingly talked to her about the good job she was doing and the hard work it was taking.  I was also doing this while reading my email and not looking at the baby beside me.  When I did glance over, I saw that she was literally soaked.  It threw off my whole night.  I'm not experienced in the emergency bath.  I forgot half of her bathing supplies.  I got poop everywhere as I undressed her.  The washing machine leaked water all over the floor during the emergency load (this is not because of my bumbling, but it did add to my sense of bewilderment).  I'm just grateful beyond words that none of it got on the couch she was on (thank heaven for the boppy).

Still, she is now clean and sleeping soundly while just on the other side of the room colorful fluff laundry dries, ready to wrap her bum in cloth (I do love the colorful part of the endeavor, both on her and on the line).  I've never been so worried about her diapers before.  I certainly hope this was a one-time deal and that the cloth diapers will step back up and guard me from all such things in the future (I checked the sizing - technically she's still on the right setting for her weight.  Maybe that's what needs to change.  Maybe this was just bad chance).  That's not too much to ask, right?  Anyway, I am all in, as we're now in a foreign land where good disposables are difficult to find and more than pricey to purchase.  It has to work.  However, I may be more aware about taking emergency supplies with me.  And about putting even more of her bathing supplies all in one spot.  Or maybe now that I've been through it, it won't seem like such a big deal ever again.  Time will tell.

Conclusion:  Pride goeth before the fall.  Also, if it's worth doing, it's worth doing again.  And again.  Even with setbacks.

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So, I don't know if you know, but I have an amazingly talented crafty seamstress sister.  She made the funnest present for Bean's Christmas.  All Bean-themed.  Can I just show you?
 Ok, let's get closer so you can see how not-just-adorable they are, but also witty.  My sister is the greatest.  Can you guess what these are?

Oh my goodness.  These little onesies are going to make me smile every single time she wears them.  I love inside jokes that are just inside me.  I have a smile all the time and no one really knows why.  These will be like that.  It's like when I spent a year going by a completely fake name (mostly just because I could) and every time I told someone my fake name, I smiled.  I knew it was funny, but they had no idea.  Heh!  Is that weird?  Heh! 

Conclusion:  Laughter is good for my soul.  And my belly muscles, and heaven knows they need all the help they can get these days.

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So, I mentioned earlier (this is normally where I would post a link to the "earlier," but it was just the post before this, so I'm just not) that I love my sling.  Now I have pictures to show you how great it is:
 I know that kind of looks like a boobie-shot, but it's also representative of how cozy it is for Bean.  She falls asleep on walks ALL THE TIME.  It's sweet.  And sometimes a godsend since she's not a great napper.  If all else fails, go for a walk.  This is basically the Dominican equivalent of taking a fussy baby for a car ride.  I am the family car. 
 Can you see what beautiful material it's made out of?  It makes me feel kind of fancy just wearing it.  And the long tail part that you can't see is lovely and feels like a totally chic scarf/accessory of some kind as it floats gently in the breeze.  It also works wonders as protection from the rain (for Bean, not so much me) and extra sun protection.  The site where I found it said the tail can be used as a nursing cover, but we all know I've sworn off those.  Meh.  So far, so good.
And this one had to be included because I feel almost exactly how I did when I was taking belly shots of my pregnant self.  She already is so big I cannot imagine how she ever fit inside me.  She is also a lot of fun and I am glad she is outside me.

All this being said, I have to confess, I have already wondered if I made a huge mistake by not bringing a stroller with me.  One of my favorite moments recently came when I mentioned to a friend (and mother of a small baby) down here that I didn't have a stroller.  She just looked at me in silence for a few moments, with a look of what I always imagined a stupor of thought to be, then it turned to a slightly horrified brow-wrinkle. 

"You don't have a stroller?" 

I laughed at her mainstream reaction to my crazy hippie ways.  But inside, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.  Bean (as mentioned before) got a burn her first day out.  She has gotten heat rash a few different times on her face and chest.  You know, where she is pressed against me and we both sweat and sweat.  And sweat.  She is a very effective heater.  I learned this when she was inside; turns out she also warms me well from the outside (and, like I keep telling myself, it's not even hot yet - eeek!).  She is no light-weight (Wonderman and I, both being good-sized, solid people, have made a solid baby).  Carrying her makes it oh-my-goodness so much more difficult to carry anything else.  Grocery shopping was tough before, with all the walking and no-car-having.  Now?  It's an adventure, to say the least. 

Still, when I talked to another friend, and avid stroller-user, about all the places she can't get to with her stroller, I felt great (and maybe a little superior, because I'm lame like that) about being able to strap Bean to my chest and go wherever I want.  I haven't yet gone on any of the hikes or island adventures, but I am pretty sure I could, and I like that.  Turns out, I'm not positive that all the baby-wearing hippies imagined said baby-wearing in such a warm place.  A stroller may come in handy sometimes.  Meh.  I still figure strollers are for sissies (I can say this because we've looked at our finances and there is no way we'll be able to get a stroller down here anytime soon [because, ps, a stroller that can handle our "off-roading" situation would cost a fortune], so it will be a trial by fire, I'll be wearing Bean no matter what).  Good thing I love my sling.

Conclusion:  All roads have their challenges.  Embrace your choices and move on.

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So, I got no pictures so far.  I'll work on that.  Still, I just wanted to report on a few things. 

1 - I know I'm 12 days late, but everyone seems to be posting about their New Year's resolutions.  I don't really make those, and if I did, I think that September is a good time to do it.  I read that somewhere, and it made sense to me, what with school starting and the seasons changing and all.  Still, I feel a little bit like making some change for good.  My goal is to floss my teeth daily.  That's been my goal for 12 days now and I have yet to do it once.  Nevertheless, the goal remains.  I thought maybe if I shared it with the internets, it'd give me some accountability.  I used to be good at getting my floss on every day, but I've lost it and I blame it fully on marriage.  I love Wonderman and all, but he put a serious crimp in my hygiene style.  This is the year to conquer that.  I hope.

2 - Can I just write a glowing, rose-colored glasses bit about nursing?  First I will say that I haven't yet experienced the chapped nipples or mastitis or all the things that make nursing hard (although pumping is definitely not my friend).  I'm sure I'll get my turn.  That being said (recognizing that my experience is limited): I love being able to feed Bean with just me, the way we were built to do it.  It's beautiful and incredible and I can't imagine why anyone would say formula is easier because I can't tell you how many times Bean has started to get a little crazy and I just whip out a boob and she's fine (too crass?  sorry).  Love it.  Don't love nursing pads, but I'll take it.  Also, I think I am officially the dirty hippie who nurses sans cover.  Even at church, where I was sure I would always use the cover.  My cousin made me an amazing cover that I used at first, as I was getting the hang of things.  I am grateful for it.  I haven't used it in weeks.  It's so much easier this way.  I think I'm pretty modest and  no one sees anything too exciting and it just feels so natural.  Sigh.  Dirty hippie.

3 - On another hippie note, I have been wearing Bean as we walk around the island.  The Baby Bjorn is good, but she seems a little contorted or something.  Plus, she got a wicked sunburn after just one trip to campus (don't tell my mother-in-law).  I switched it out for this sling that my sister gave me.  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  I love it.  More comfortable.  More cute.  More Bean sleeping sweetly.  More better all around.  Ok, I still love the Bjorn and I know it has its place, but it's going to the back of the closet for a while.

4 - I love my cloth diapers.  I bought these and they work great.  After using disposables for all our travels, I am glad to be back to cloth.  They never come nearly as close to the blowouts or leakage as do the plastic diapers.  I have done a couple diaper laundry loads here on the island and they still work great.  I was worried about our washer being lame or the detergent not being good enough or them not drying or something else I hadn't yet imagined.  All is well.  And this has kept rash at bay so far (I know we're just beginning, but still, I think it's good stuff)

The end of me reporting on stuff today.

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