Friday, December 31, 2010

My Hippie Versus My Heathen

I might look modern on the outside, but there’s a hippie on the inside is sportin’ hairy armpits and listening to Grateful Dead in a tie-dyed sundress. OK, maybe not the hairy armpits part. I actually find hairy armpits to be scratchy. And stinky. (more on THAT lovely postpartum change on another blog!) Maybe my inner hippie has dreads instead…yea, dreads….now THOSE are cool! I love me a little “goin’ green” IF it doesn’t interfere too much with my whoops-what-happened-this-is-crazier-than-it-should-be-life. For example, when I go shopping, 9 times out of 10 my recyclable bags made of old recycled bags that I bought with wonderful intentions is left behind in the entry closet, stuffed behind the vacuum and 16 little pair of shoes. I hustle to the checkout in record time, but not fast enough to stop my screaming 16 month old from having a fit out of boredom. As I clutch him in one arm, he throws his solid 29 pound self in an attempt to escape and like a seasoned prison guard I use the other hand to separate the 6 and 7 year old girls as they begin to push and shove each other out of the way so they can both play with the stupid $5 fan toy filled with candy. I’m flustered. I’m sweaty. And the cashier at the grocery store asks the question “paper or plastic?” I will tell him proudly “PAPER!” and in the next breath, “Oh. Wait. Do they have handles on them?” If they do, (and sadly, ONLY if they do) I will walk out with my loud ass kids and my groceries packed in my brown bags feeling like I did my part save the earth for the day.
When my doula friend Mary approached me about trying cloth diapering, I had a flashback to my childhood. My head was filled with images of me gagging while my mom scraped turds into the toilet and then choking on the stink from the diaper pail as she stuffed the soggy, wet mess into its belly. I remember the look on her face as she struggled to diaper up my little brother as he wiggled like a pink little pig, desperately trying not to skewer him with what looked like the hugest, sharpest pins in the world. No thanks. But Mary assured me that those days were gone and it was MUCH easier to cloth diaper nowadays. Plus, dangit…I just read a statistic that said it takes 500 YEARS for ONE diaper to decompose in a landfill. Take 3 kids in diapers for a combined 7 and ½ years, and well, I’m pretty sure MY landfill pile is taller than my own house.
After Mary swatted away all of the excellent excuses I used about why it was great for her but there was no way I could possibly do it, I bought 6 of the cutest cloth diapers WITH velcro tabs (having snaps was one of my excuses…couldn’t take the time to snap with my carpel tunnel and such!) and there they sat, on my counter for 2 months. Finally, I took the plunge. I washed and dried all 6 of the Rump A Rooz SIX, yes, count it, SIX times, (apparently you have to do that to get the maximum amount of pee soakage possible) put one together, and slapped it on Grady’s butt. Although it LOOKED like it was going to be tough to figure out, it was amazingly easy…and that’s coming from the girl who has self proclaimed ADD and can’t focus on ANY project that takes longer than 20 seconds to complete. Grady is now sporting his FIRST cloth diaper while taking a trip to Sports Authority with his dad, walking around with that telltale cloth diaper big ole’ booty. Dang it’s cute…and I will update you on how it goes. Mary PROMISED it would be easy. I’ll be sure to let you know if she was telling the truth…or if these will go in the closet next to my recycled recycle bags!

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