In non-diaper news...
I've claimed since the girl was old enough to have a personality evident to people besides her parents that babies are really just tiny frat boys. This claim was based on several things, almost all of them related to breasts, drinking, and vomit.
The girl has just added more weight to the claim.
A few minutes ago, after we finished nursing, she reached around and grabbed my discarded bra.
Which she proceeded to put on her head.
While laughing as if it was the funniest thing EVER.
Frat boys.
Teeny-tiny frat boys.
Things I don't get about cloth diapers
Now that we've been cloth diapering for, oh, 8 or so months, I find that there are still some aspects of it that baffle the heck out of me:
- The popularity of snaps over aplix. Especially for older babies/toddlers. Who squirm. So you can't snap their diapers. Not without at least one person per flailing limb and possibly horse tranquilizers. Okay, so perhaps if you let them run around in just a diaper, they'll be more likely to pull it off if it uses aplix than if it uses snaps, but dude, that's what pants are for, and I don't see the point of a diaper that's harder to get off if it means you can't get the damn things on. Also? Snaps aren't all that much trimmer. No, seriously. They're not.
Yes, snaps are tougher and hold up better in the wash, but you know, I only have one kid. I only plan on having one kid. A moderate increase in diaper lifespan doesn't really matter to me, as I'm not saving these for future siblings. And even if I were, I'd still want aplix on everything, as the wear and tear of the wash has nothing on the wear and tear that comes from struggling to apply diaper to bottom when the bottom would rather be anywhere but the changing table.
Oh, and aplix diapers fit better. Especially if your weirdo baby is always mysteriously in-between snap settings.
- Prints. They leak, they wick, they're hidden under clothing unless you believe in underwear as outerwear for the under-twos, and yet, despite all of the above, despite the fact that my existing prints are in the back of the drawer for emergency use only, I've got a yearning to pick up a couple more of the damn things. I've spotted a Happy Heiny's on eBay that matches my mei tai...
- The sizing of certain brands of fleece and wool covers. Which were clearly designed for a baby with no body fat and lead for bones, seeing as my skinny little thing outgrew the size D (22-27 lbs) in the fleece ones before she hit 15 lbs and is a bit big for the size C (18-22 lbs) in the wool ones at her current whopping 17 lbs. These are two different brands I'm talking about, too. I'd understand it a bit better were it just the one.
I still love cloth diapering. I think that probably baffles me more than anything. I never pictured myself as the kind of person who'd find washing diapers to be a peaceful and soothing task she looks forward to for most of the week. Hell, in college, my mission was to have enough clothing so that I only had to do laundry once a quarter. And yet, here I am, contemplating making some sort of excuse to do a load tonight, even though there really aren't enough dirties to justify it...
It's a sickness.
I even get a little sad when I think about potty training, because then, no more diapers.
Wanted: One Brain
I swear, that's all I need. Just one.
So long as it's functional, of course.
After almost four months back in the work saddle, I think mine's gone off or been misplaced.
When I was, for all intents and purposes, a SAHM, I read a lot. Thick, meaty texts on the politics of breastfeeding, the economics of family, class and money in American society, blah blah blah.
When I started working again, my reading grew a little lighter. Terry Pratchett on the bus, maybe the occasional Neil Gaiman, or a nice Rucka thriller.
After a few weeks, it grew lighter still. A comic book here and there. Maybe a catalogue. Better still, a catalogue of comic books! Not that I'm keeping up with the ones I do buy.
It's hard to focus on anything deeper than
Moo, Baa, La La La these days, and that'd probably be hard, too, if I didn't have the damn thing memorized. Hell, even a good bodice ripper requires more effort than I'm willing to put forth.
I blame working.
I've felt myself sliding into stupidity since I started.
Sure, I FEEL more intellectually stimulated, but that's just because I'm around humans who know more than three words and aren't afraid to use them to shoot the poop. And I'm busy doing what I'm paid to do and doing it well, which makes me feel no end of clever about 60% of the time, but in reality probably takes less in the way of brainpower than budgeting and cooking did, and certainly takes less than parenting an active, curious baby.
Maybe it leaked out my ear.
My brain, that is.
The one I swear I used to have.
