Flats&Handwashing Day 3

Day 3 of the 3rd Annual Flats and HandWashing Challenge. The challenge is to use only flat cloth diapers and handwash them for 7 days. No washing machines or dryers allowed!

I'm sure the maintenance man found himself wondering if he had accidentally driven through a magic time portal when I answered the door yesterday. Alex was sitting on the couch working on homework, I was folding the mountain of laundry that had taken up residence in our papasan chair, and Spain was running around  in nothing but a flat diaper, complete with pins. The soundtrack of our morning was a radio drama we were half listening to. The only thing missing from our vintage domestic picture of bliss, was a poodle skirt. Oh, wait, poodle skirts were not "mom clothes".

I know I'm in the minority, but I prefer pins. Snappis always left me cold, I've used them a few times, and then decided that I shouldn't bother trying to force myself to like them.  

I always keep at least one spare set of pins in the diaper bag "just in case". With a pair of diaper pins you can make almost anything into a makeshift diaper. They're also great for tightening saggy britches, holding together a tear, or just pinning something to your shirt. They're multi-purpose!

Pins don't scare Sweet Husband either. When Alex was a baby pins and prefolds were the first thing Sweet Husband would reach for when changing a diaper. I stocked up on fitteds, thinking Sweet Husband would prefer them, but he still went for the prefolds. 

A couple tips for using pins:

-Make sure they're sharp! Like knives, pins should be kept sharp. A dull pin can cause much more damage than a sharp pin.

-Store your pins in a bar of beeswax or soap.

-Here's a universal truth: A little lube makes insertion easier. If you're having trouble getting the pin through the fabric try oiling the tip. I run the tip of the pin gently across my scalp, but some people prefer a little olive oil or diaper cream. Remember: A little bit goes a long way!

Flats&Handwashing Challenge Day 2- Supplies and Prep

Day 2 of the 3rd Annual Flats and HandWashing Challenge. The challenge is to use only flat cloth diapers and handwash them for 7 days. No washing machines or dryers allowed!

My stash for this challenge is almost completely comprised of receiving blankets. You know the kind; they are too small to swaddle your baby in, and yet you have several of them. Receiving blankets are kind of like rabbits, and scobies, they just keep multiplying. My favorite place to find them is in thrift stores, around here you can pick them up for $.50 a piece. I'm also using a couple of Ikea burp cloths as flats.

My nighttime diaper is a Kissaluv fitted with a bamboo doubler. I'm not sure if that was the best choice, I'm not 100% sure it will be dry by bedtime. We'll find out.

Here's the break down.

10 Recieving Blankets -  $1 (Most were gifts, but I did thrift a few of them)
2 Ikea Burp Cloths -$4
1 Kissaluv Fitted -$10 (Used)
2 Grovia Covers -$15 (Clearance)
2 Bummis Covers -$15 (Used)
1 Wool soaker -$15 (Clearance)
3 Pocket diapers -$21
3 Bamboo doublers -$3
1 Wet bag -Free (I won it 6 years ago when Alex was in diapers. It's still going strong!)
1 set of Boingos -$4
Assorted Pins -$3

Grand Total =$91

I could cut this down further if I needed to. I totally splurged on the Ikea burp cloths. I could pick up eight receiving blankets at a thrift store for $4. Last year I didn't use a night time diaper, this year I wanted to give it a try and see if having a night time diaper would be feasible with hand washing in the morning and being ready to use at night.
Last year, I didn't use wool during the challenge, but I do love wool, so I decided to throw some into
The pocket diapers are necessities this year, as Spain spends a few hours each week in our church nursery. The nursery workers are more than happy to use cloth, as long as pins/snappis/boingos aren't involved.
If I had cut out the wool, the nighttime diaper, the Ikea burp cloths and commited to either Boingos OR pins I could have shaved ~$33 off my total cost.

Flats & Handwashing Challenge (The Sequel) Day 1

We were "supposed" to move this summer. I had to use quotation marks, because we're a military family, and plans have a way of changing in the military. 

When I decided to do the Flats & Handwashing challenge this year, I had planned on using it as a moving trial for me. Moving means hotel stays, life without a washer and dryer, and lots of expenses that you didn't quite plan on. I was hoping to simplify things by switching to flats for a while. Alas, I made to many plans in advance, and our plans were unexpected changed. We're no longer moving!

Sweet husband was deployed during last year's challenge, so he's never had to deal with flats before.

I  sat Sweet Husband down this morning to break the news to him. I gave him a quick outline:

-Flats only. No All-in-ones. No prefolds. No fitteds. For one week.

-No Dryers or washers, you must hand wash.

As soon as I said "hand washing" he looked at me and deadpanned "that's all you."

I figured, I should probably show him how to fold a flat into a cover anyway. Sweet Husband, isn't afraid of changing diapers, but he is afraid of messing with my "crazy Hippy ideas"*

So, ready or not, here we GO!

You can find out more about the challenge at Dirty Diaper Laundry!

*My words, not his.

Facebook Evidence

• Something happens every Wednesday. Every Wednesday, rain or shine, without fail. It probably has something to do with the spacial orbit of the moon, the fact that there is a "W" in the word "Wednesday", or maybe slow sales from the liquor store down the street. 
  Every Wednesday Alex and Spain stare forlornly out the window, sighing and counting every second until Sweet Husband gets home. 
  
  Last Wednesday:May:

  Both boys are standing at the screen door waiting for you. David keeps calling "Papa!" and Marcus chimes in with an occasional "Where are you papa?". They're little lost souls....
• Sweet Husband:

  
  

  LOL...Poor guys.
  
  
  Sweet Husband came home for lunch like thirty minutes later. They were so overjoyed they started doing blackflips and singing praises. For real.
  When he left an hour later their worlds came crashing down.
  
  
  This Wednesday:
  

  • May:

    They're already chanting "When's Papa going to be home? Is he coming home? Where is PAPA?!"
    
    Sweet Husband:
  • Man...I thought that it was going to be sooner. They held out for a while.
    
    May:
  • They started at 10:50. I just didn't want to turn the computer on.

  
  
  I'm pretty sure 5:00 took 3 days to get here.
  
  
  

Sometimes.....

Sometimes being a military spouse, straight up BITES!*

And, yes, I had an idea of what I was getting into when he signed away our lives. We had been married for two years when Sweet Husband felt called to join the military.
Sweet husband signed on the line, and two weeks later we said goodbye for the first time. He went through eights weeks of basic training, followed by twenty-four weeks of specialized training, before we were able to live together again.
Over the years, we've spent almost as much time living apart as we have living together. One might think that saying "goodbye" that often has left me hardened, that Sweet Husband's comings and goings are nothing more than turn-of-the-mill events.

One would be wrong.

Sweet Husband is adored. Everyday, when he walks through the front door, he's greeted by squeals and cheers. Occasionally the paparazzi is also on the scene to document such goings on. Everyday that Sweet Husband gets to come home. Our household rejoices. So when he gets orders to leave for weeks at a time. It is devastating.

Sometimes dealing with the craziness and politics of a unit leaves you feeling emotionally bruised and battered.

Combine the two together, and it's no wonder military installations have liquor stores.






*Yes, it bites. It does not suck. Think about it. Biting is ALWAYS bad. Sucking is not.

My Secret Life...

I've been quiet for awhile because I wasn't sure how to publicly acknowledge the atmosphere in our house. But secrecy and pretending everything is okay is exhausting.

I've done everything I could think of to stay away from this blog. As of this typing, there is no dirty laundry in our house. But I realized that all seven people who read my blog will probably love us, even after reading this.

So here we go...........

SPAIN HAS A SUPERPOWER!!!

For real people!

Spain has the ability to control water. He can take ONE teaspoon and turn it into FIVE gallons simply by letting it touch his skin,

You scoff?

Allow me share a story.

Last week I took Spain and Alex to the Pediatrician. Alex needed a sports physical and Spain was there because he had just turned two (there's no cure).

After Spain throughly inspected the exam room trashcan's foot pedal, I took him to the sink to wash his hands. I carefully balanced Spain on one of my knees, keeping him stabilized with one hand, and used the other to operate the faucet.

I turned the water on gently. I didn't need a geyser, just a soft stream.

Spain thrust his hands into the stream of water with a gusto that I would normally save for chocolate. The world slowed down. With crystal clarity I saw a geyser water shoot to our right. The world jolted back to the proper speed and I shut the faucet off 

This happened so quickly, I hadn't even had a chance to take my hand off the water handle.

Water dripped of the doorknob. I grabbed a paper towel to wipe off the knob and realized I was wadding... In a pond... On the exam room floor.

I set Spain on the floor and handed him a handful of paper towels. 

"Help Mama" I chirped cheerily "Let's clean this up!"

Spain dutifully set his wad of paper towels in the puddle. They turned from crisp crinkly light brown to soft soggy mud brown instantly.

Methodically I worked. scooping up handfuls of soggy water towels and water. The hem of my pants got heavier and heavier as they desperately tried to soak up all the water they could.

Finally, after almost emptying the paper towel dispenser, I deemed the floor "dry enough".

I grabbed a stack of books off the exam room desk to distract Spain, who was yelling "Hands! Hands!" and trying to climb inside the sink. Glossy colorful pictures did nothing to dissuade him. Instead his desire burned deeper and hotter.

Still not convinced?

You'll have to come over for dinner. He's really good at taking a glass with three drops in it, turning it upside and leaving you to look like you left your Depends at home.

Censorship? Yes, please!

I teach Sunday School for a sweet group of children who range between the ages of 5 and 7. Our regular crowd is made up almost entirely of five year olds... And Alex. Who just turned seven.


This week our lesson was about David and Goliath. Thanks to a very thorough Sunday school class Alex visited when he was five, he is privy to gory details about the David and Goliath story that many people are not aware of.

I planned on following the preplanned curriculum, which omitted the gruesome details, partially because they're gruesome details, and partially because having to explain decapitation to my kindergartner a few years ago was slightly scarring for  me. I have no wish to repeat the experience with other people's children.

I decided a quick chat with Alex before class time was crucial for my plan "Avoid Gruesome Details".


Me: We're going to talk about David and Goliath today.

Alex: I know that story!!!! David hit goliath with a rock AND THEN HE CUT OFF GOLIATH'S HEAD!!!

Me: Yes, but we're not going to talk about the part where his head gets cut off.
Because the girls are only five years old, and I don't want to scare them.

Alex: ....If they say it first can we talk about it?

Ode to a Pediatrician

Dear Ex-Pediatrician,
The last time I saw you, you broke my heart into a million pieces.
When you said you were moving across the country, I forgot how to breathe.

You came into my life, when I had given up. I had no hope. While the other pediatricians told me I was an over anxious first time mom, you listened to me, and addressed my concerns. Instead of rolling your eyes at me, you looked through the charts and saw my reason for concern.
Because of you we were pushed through to see the specialist and get the necessary tests. Without you we probably never would have had the chance for Alex to get the surgery he needed.
You helped renew my faith in medical professionals.

After you left, we bounced from one pediatrician to another. We saw big ones, we saw small ones. We saw old ones, we saw young ones. After another visit of being bullied and ridiculed, I would sigh deeply and say "I wish Dr. P was still here.".

But then we met someone. Someone else who listened and addressed our concerns. When we choose to do something outside of the mainstream way of thinking, she helped us achieve our goals. I stopped wishing you would come back.

Then today, as I gingerly walked through the crowded pediatric lobby, praying that my healthy children would hold their collective breath and not touch anything. I saw you. I have to admit, you looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who you were until I looked at your name tape.
Excitement coursed through my body as realization hit me.

You are back!

Visions flashed through my mind. First of you ordering Alex's allergy tests, then of our current pediatrician ordering donor milk for Spain. Examples battled in my mind as I grappled with the dilemma: Stay with our current pediatrician, or try to get you back.
All day long I deliberated. I thought I had decided, and then I would change my mind.

Finally I made a decision. What we had was wonderful. You restored my faith in medical professionals, and because of you, my son can breathe... Literally.
It's been three years though, and we've moved on. We're happy in our relationship with our current pediatrician. I can't throw that away.

You'll always have a place in my heart.

Thank you for everything.

PSA

Sometimes I sit down to write a post with a very clear idea of what I want to say. Usually it happens to be an issue that I'm feeling particularly passionate about.

Surprisingly, I'm finding that my writing begins to go in a different direction altogether. While the finished piece is something I'm usually proud to share, it is not at all what I had originally intended.

I chalk it up to a supernatural power. You see, in the melting pot that is my genealogical ancestry, there is a strong Irish presence on one side, and a lively Scottish presence on the other side. Neither group is particularly known for their diplomacy.

Not to mention, I really hate having to eat my words.

Sometimes I feel like I'm swimming in a sea of negativity, so writing a blog post- Even unintentionally- that is not negative makes me feel refreshed. As a bonus, the driving urge to vent and rant away about some awful situation leaves me.

That is not to say that I will only be writing positive posts from now on. That is HIGHLY unlikely. I'm just saying that sometimes God takes pity on you, and removes my desire to spew my discord all over the internet.



See, miracles do happen.

Musings from a mother

I often wonder how much value is placed on our children. I don't mean how big is their life insurance pay out.

I mean, how much do we value their contribution to society?

I chuckle when I hear the term "Life skills". Life is what is happening every day. From the moment we are born we start learning and assimilating skills . We study our environment consciously and unconsciously. We learn how to respond to social cues and situations. It's an ongoing process that we never stop cycling through.

When Alex was born, he relied on Sweet Husband and I for everything. In one very short year he could get from Point A to Point B on his own. He could feed himself, and he could communicate with us in broken English. 

Two years after that, he could use the bathroom by himself. He understood the other people had feelings. He could still communicate with us in broken English.

Four years after that, he is starting to learn multiplication. He can grasp concepts in physics. He can read books by himself. He can write a letter by himself. 

Every year he continues to grow physically and mentally. He is maturing and picking up new attitudes and behaviors. Every year he is evolving into the man he will become. 

I have to constantly remind myself that Alex is not three years old anymore. He has new capabilities now, and if I don't allow him a chance to exercise these new  attributes, I cannot expect him to become a contributing member of society.

As his parent I need to allow him the opportunity to explore and expand his skills.

One day Alex will be an adult. It will not be a rapid transformation, but a slow metamorphosis.

My hope is that he will be able to interact with people, regardless of their culture or age. My prayer is that he will never stop seeing the humanity in other people, and that he will value their contributions.

I want my child to interact with people that are much older than him, and with people that are much younger than him. I want to learn first hand about compassion and teaching. I want him to hear firsthand accounts of life before the internet and cable tv.

I want him to know that we can celebrate our differences.

I want him to have the confidence to think for himself.