Test Subject Ava cont'd

Whats on Ava's bum...

You will surely think I have gone insane. Night diapering has become insane. Now that she moves around and pisses fifty gallons, I'm dumbfounded. It's messed up because, this is what started my hate for disposables. At around 3 or 4 months I brought her into bed with Daddy and me. I was waking up in a pee puddle every morning. The rest is cloth history.

Now I live with Peezilla.  Last night she devastated a pooters hemp fitted with TWO doublers and drenched her freshly lanolized sloomb soaker. I know that sounds like greek but in cloth land it's like, unheard of. Wool can suck up 30% of its weight in fluid. I could have wrung the muther out. She was surrounded by a lake sized piddle puddle.



{It also dawned on me that the last couple of nights she started getting up for a  bottle.  No doubt because she is starving from the non-stop standing , crawling, commando rolling she does all day.}

I did some research and read some pretty crazy combo's for night diapering. I don't feel so alone now.

Tonight she is wearing a contour with a fleece liner. Over that I have a minky kawaii ( a big fuzzy pocket diaper as a cover)with a bamboo insert(see absorbent layer). She is stuffed and wrapped up tight.  It's a fleece, unbleached thick cotton, bamboo, fleece, polyurethane laminate, minky sandwich wrapped around her bum.

Wish me luck if I wake up cuddling Peezilla and my pajamas are all wet again, I may go stark raving mad.
Make that more stark raving mad. I love Peezilla. I just hate not being able to solve a problem.

*just as in all stories all products have been purchased. I have not been solicited in anyway to do reviews. I'm just giving a play by play as I work through the journey of motherhood

ingenious article by some innovators in the cloth dipe industry

Cloth Diapers... by Cotton Babies: Jenn's Thoughts: Almost Free Diapers - How to diaper your baby when you can't afford disposable diapers or cloth diapers

Stash Hash Installment 3

And then there was sloomb... 


Wool covers are actually quite old school. They came before plastic pants. I imagine someone's mummy on the Mayflower wrapping there bum in rags and then a bit of wool.

Why? Wool is extremely absorbent.  It will suck up pretty much all the pee wetness you can feed it. It is also highly breathable providing a temperature controlled bum, and has some anti bacterial properties.

When it comes to wool covers (better called a soaker) sloomb is the creme de la creme.  Aesthetically they are  the most attractive. Functionally they are amazing. However, they will set you back a pretty penny. I hesitated because of the price. I stalked their website until they had a "seconds" sale. I then purchased the super lovely carbon colored wool soaker.

I immediately loved the look. I had some trouble getting used to the functionality of wool. You must treat your wool soaker. You have to make them moisture repellent. You do this by putting back the natural lanolin. You give the soaker a little hand wash bath and then soak it in lanolin overnight. After it air dries it is ready for action.

To be successful with wool you have to understand how it works. I was expecting a waterproof quality like with my pocket diapers. Pockets have a layer of polyurethane laminate. Wool is a natural fiber. I know sounds elementary but, I wasn't expecting "damp" covers. I almost gave up on wool. My expectations were set incorrectly. I also did not use enough lanolin when I treated the soaker.

I wrote in the last stash hash about almost selling off the hemp fitteds. The sloomb was also on the chopping block. It was so gorgeous and so soft, I loved it so much. I gave it another chance. On my third time hand washing and treating the soaker I got it right. I also realized it's a SOAKER not a COVER. Wool will absorb the moisture. It traps it. It will feel damp to the touch but it will not allow your furniture or lap to become wet.

Que the Aha moment music here...


Now it is the go to "cover" for nights.  I could buy a thousand of these in all the beautiful colors! Sloomb also makes "longies" which are a pants version of the wool soaker. They are to die for. I'm holding out for next winter and another "seconds" sale for a  pair of those!

You can also upcycle old wool sweaters into covers and longies. I got the pair pictured here on ebay for basically pennies! They work awesome for daytime in cold weather. They are just one seam. If I figure out the method (wink wink) I'm sure you will see it as a post on my Craft page one day...


Once you know how to work with it and what to expect wool rocks!

*all products were purchased by the author. these opinions are the author's. no company participated by sending any samples.

Stash Hash Installment 2

 After the Kawaii pocket diapers I purchased three Pooter's hemp fitteds.  These diapers require a cover. They are a workhorse diaper. This means they are super durable, insanely absorbent and  great for overnight. I was not quite ready to invest in wool covers. I bought instead an inexpensive Happy Heinys Stacinator fleece cover.

here is the hemp fitted pre cover

The combination of the two was utilitarian. No frills or cute patterns here. They did however ensure a dry bed upon waking. 

here is a tired baby in a hemp fitted

The Stacinator hemp cover is nothing to write home about. Don't get me wrong it does a great leak proof job. It's just really bulky. It is only good for nights. I would never try to get it under clothing. It does have a kind of comic appeal. Ava looks like she is wearing an animal skin, we call her cave baby.

Even though this combo did such a great job I almost sold off this part of my stash. I liked the products. I just didn't think they were necessary. At the time Ava was 4 months old and pockets were doing an excellent job overnight as well. I wound up offering the stash to a few friends that were either expecting or had babies. No one accepted my offer. I'm really glad now that they didn't. At 7 months pockets aren't handling the overnight pee onslaught.

It's all about fitteds and covers at night now. She thrashes and rolls and pee's like 50 gallons...

Next stash hash I'll wax poetic about the beauty of wool covers.



*all products were purchased by the author. these opinions are the author's. no company participated by sending any samples.

Stash Hash Installment 1

Ava's first cloth diaper


One of the things that attracts me to cloth diapering is the term cloth mama's use for their supply of diapers. It is stash. I like having a stash. It's like having something secret that no one else has. It definitely refers to something fun.

The first diapers to join the stash were five Kawaii pocket diapers. The Kawaii performed beyond my wildest dreams and instead of resorting back to disposables I washed those five diapers repeatedly.  Kawaii pockets are now the backbone of my stash. I have approximately twenty. They never do me wrong. They are also very daddy friendly.They go on just like a disposable only with snaps.

I also ordered two Sun Baby's because I saw a comment from a mommy saying they did not give red marks on her baby's legs.  These are now what I would call my very last resort. One is diapering a toy Elmo. The other may possibly be dissected for curiosity's sake. I do not recommend these. Step away from the Sun Baby's.

*all products were purchased by the author. these opinions are the author's. no company participated by sending any samples.

Big Fat Tuesday

We just wanted to go out to breakfast. It was the day after Daddy's 39th birthday and we were still celebrating.
Our favorite spot for breakfast is a Big Easy /French style restaurant across town. We got it together, dressed ourselves, dressed the baby, and packed the baby's traveling things. When we arrived we discovered it was
                                             
                                                 FAT FUCKING FRENCHING TUESDAY!

We also discovered our favorite breakfast spot isn't exactly prepared for babies.
They have ONE highchair and TWO tables where you can be seated with said highchair. We wound up in a booth with a seven month old baby.  If you don't have kids just pretend you are starving and have just been seated but you must wrangle a small greased piglet during your entire meal.





                                                         my plate

                                                                                            daddy's plate


He offered to take her over to his side several times. I was too annoyed to accept help. I declined his offers. I got my cocktail down my throat and a few bites of beignets.


Restaurateurs I beg of you, if you are open for day service please think of the babysitter challenged diner. I know we breeders are a lowly bunch but, some of us do enjoy good food.

One more time
                                                                  my plate

What the F is fat tuesday anyhow? I know what it is please don't leave me comments explaining. I'm just saying why do I have to starve so that a bunch of Catholics can clog up my favorite breakfast spot.

how a savage beast becomes a fully domesticated animal

 I had no intention of getting married or having children. My plan was to be a spinster with cats. Cats are f-in awesome and celibacy equals very low drama levels.

I married my true love in a private ceremony on valentines day 2008 in Las Vegas.

Now I do shit like this

                                           banana hearts

                                           blueberry oatmeal


And I have one of these

I'd kill for a goodmama or How cloth diapers saved my life

Sometime around Ava's fourth month of life I experienced  postpartum depression. I did not want to hurt her. I was not hindered from bonding with her. Quite the contrary I was (am) very bonded and in love with her.

I wanted to hurt myself. I felt insane. I felt ugly and worthless. I was over stressed and totally sleep deprived.

I was having suicidal thoughts I was also having delusional paranoid thoughts. I would have entire days where I could not stop the intrusive thoughts that something was wrong with Ava and no one was telling me. I would look at my perfect beautiful baby and become convinced she had cerebral palsy or worse. I knew these thoughts were just thoughts, that did not stop them from being troubling.

I was also in constant physical pain. I was recovering from a c section. I had several layers of stitches. I developed de quervain's tenosynovitis in both wrists. Picking up the baby was agony. Doing dishes was agony. Changing diapers was agony. Agony was agony.

I was crying all the time. That is when I wasn't screaming at my poor husband. I wanted to be joyous. I was so happy about my life, my baby, my husband. The chemical imbalance was sucking away my joy. I was so tired of being in pain. I was so tired of being crazy.

I told my husband I was having the bad thoughts. I emailed my doctor. I told people I was crazy. My doctor prescribed celexa. I have never been one to think head meds were for me. I'm not sure why I held that opinion I have had anxiety for years my whole life. This time I did not let pride get in the way, I took the medicine. I was not going to let anything ruin motherhood.

My husband confessed to me that he had also been feeling the strain. After Ava was born he had started a new job that came with an ass load of stress. He became the only breadwinner. He was also dealing with my craziness. I don't know how he did it without killing me. I was horrible. I was a barking shrew, a crippled yelping elephant seal. I sucked. My husband also took steps to help himself.

To add to our insomnia and stress we were not receiving the kind of support we had imagined we would from our family. They were more than happy to buy the baby toys and clothes. They just didn't want to watch the baby or clean our house or anything that would have f-ing helped our exhausted state. They did seem to want to come and impose visit in the beginning while I was doubled over from being sawed in half and the newborn babe was getting used to her new earthly surroundings. I always thought people were supposed to bring casseroles and do your dishes instead they would show up hungry and nursing colds.

I must add here that I love these people dearly. They are family. They just weren't doing shit the way I wanted. When you are a control freak with postpartum depression and anxiety disorder you really need people to do shit the way you want.

We reached out.

Actually we freaked out.

On Halloween it came to a head. We were waiting for word back from our doctors and trying to figure out how to get help. We were trying to make the crazies stop. My husband made a desperate call to his mother. He requested that she come by just a couple hours a week to help. I just needed a shower or a run a couple of times a week. I was certain this would help the crazies. Exercise and hot showers have always helped the crazies. To this day that request has not "exactly" been fulfilled. Ava's never been watched by anyone but her daddy in her now seven months of life, except for a couple of comedic [ad nauseam] attempts I'll write about later.

I called for therapy. The way my insurance carrier handled this was absurd (see bureaucratic bullshit). I was given a list of contracted therapists and told to call them. When I had an appointment with one I was to call back and then coverage would be determined. I called six therapists. I reached voice mail on each call. I left messages on each one detailing that I had postpartum depression and needed an appointment asap. I never heard back.

A few weeks later I lost my insurance. My maternity leave was over. Our hope had been to put me on my husbands insurance however it turned out that would cost 700.00 dollars a month. I am currently uninsured.

I will take steps to try to find free counseling. I'm also looking for a support group to join. I am trying to get better. I am working within my means to get better. I am getting better

The good news is the celexa helped a lot. The suicidal thoughts stopped. Paranoid thoughts are rare. I'm awaiting delivery of a jogging stroller so I can just run with the baby. I manage to get a shower almost everyday. I brought Ava into our bed and that improved sleep a great deal. I still get anxiety attacks but as I stated earlier that's been with me a long time.

Around the time all this came crashing down I was also becoming disillusioned with disposable diapers. I started researching cloth. I was AMAZED at how awesome cloth had become! I dove in head first.

I was addicted before I even had it on my baby's bottom. I have to give a major shout out to Autumn Beck her blog was an f'ing amazing resource. She steered me in the right direction. I have washed diapers correctly and purchased diapers that were perfect for my baby thanks to her.

Thank you Autumn.

I spent my anxiety ridden nights perusing diaper sites and diaper chats and diaper forums. The diapers were so cute. In some cases the diapers were works of handmade art. The diapers held in the poo-splosions that had been plaguing me. Many other mommies were so honest and real. Going cloth felt more like me. I started to feel like I was part of a group. I was no longer isolated. Diapers were making me HAPPY.

Somehow even without help or a break from the baby or therapy I was coming out of the worst part of the mental illness. Cloth diapers were speaking to my creative soul. If you haven't seen the evolution of cloth you may think I'm bat shit but cloth diapers are seriously amazing (see goodmama).

It wasn't tangible physical contact with other moms but, it was contact. It was a feeling of belonging.

It made changing poop fun. It made life good. If it hadn't been for my amazing husband, my wonderful baby and cloth diapers I'm not sure what would have happened.

Thank you #clothdiapers, you provided a much needed distraction ,while saving the planet and my baby's butt.

*Author's note: after this article was written my mother in-law decided to sponsor my health care- I am currently shopping for a plan.  scratch that

trials and tribulations of a non breast feeder

Why are you asking me about my intentions for my breasts and my breast milk?

Strangers and acquaintances alike would ask what I planned to do with my breasts and the milk they would be producing. A pregnant belly is a universal symbol for no boundaries. When I gave an honest answer it led to a dissertation on the beauty and benefits of breastfeeding. I do not dispute the value and loveliness of breastfeeding. I simply did not make that choice.

The indigenous peoples  (see strangers in the grocery store) outrage at my selfish denial of my breast milk led me to want to lie. I concocted horror stories. I wanted to tell people I had disfigured breasts, no breasts, hepatitis, or HIV. You name it I had it and it was stopping me from the glorious act of breast feeding. It certainly wasn't my own  free will. It certainly couldn't have been a choice I would make if said stranger or acquaintance could just educate me.

I have had one instance since Ava's birth when I wished I had chosen breastfeeding. I was in a packed baby unfriendly restaurant. I wanted to torture my fellow diners by whipping out my bare breast and attaching my little savage right there. I wanted to use breastfeeding as a weapon. I think this is a solid argument against me breastfeeding not for.

I support my breastfeeding sisters. I know they are often judged harshly. Public breastfeeding is always a challenge. Breastfeeding itself can be torturous hard work. Please remember this the next time you judge a mother who chooses the bottle.