It’s not you, it’s me.

So everyone’s mad and worried or whatever because I don’t write anymore. And it’s summer, so I should be posting all over the place because I’m not a work. But here’s the deal: mentally, I’m TOAST. Okay, if we’re being honest here (and why not? It’s the internet, so this is a safe place, right? Right?), I’m also physically toast. And spiritually toast. And…you get the point. This last year kicked my butt. It actually did a lot worse than that, but this is a family blog. But seriously. I don’t even know what to say about it all other than I’ve been turned inside out and run over by a thousand freight trains. And I guess it hasn’t been the last year so much as it’s been the last couple, probably starting when I got pregnant. So you’re going to have to forgive me. Because blogging has sounded a lot like work, and every time I get five seconds of freetime the last thing I feel like doing is being clever and funny and telling stories. I just want to lay on the couch in a half coma watching The Secret Life of the American Teenager. And I’m not even going to bother crossing that out and pretending I watch the History Channel or something. So I guess that’s my big confession. I watch ridiculous and cheesy TV shows. And I’m not even ashamed.

So I’ve been devoting myself to knitting and sewing because they take less thought. And speaking of less thought, as we speak I’m hanging out with Ben and his friend, who spent the night last night. This kid asks SO MANY QUESTIONS. Sheesh. Doesn’t he realize that explaining the nature of everything on this planet is not something I feel up to right now? Kids these days.

My neighbor just walked by and asked if my summer has been nice and relaxing so far. What a perfect segue into my next excuse for why I haven’t been writing. The answer is a big, hearty, absolutely  not. It has been crazy and busy and hectic. A lot of it has been fun. But busy. We’ve had a constant stream of visitors and birthdays and a billion other things. It’s been so wonderful seeing family and friends that I never get to see, spending time with people, playing, and doing fun things. But some days I sit and dream of having one day where I don’t need to be somewhere. That moment lasts about ten seconds, because I need to be somewhere. And in the midst of the busy flurry of activity, it has been a lot more emotionally demanding than I was anticipating as well. So I’m getting exhausted.

Anyway, I’m done complaining. Over the next several days (or months, or never) I will attempt to catch you up on all of our summer adventures. And maybe the spring ones, since I didn’t really tell you about those either. But I think this post is long enough already, so I’ll just throw in a few random pictures so that people will actually look at this post, and to tide you over until I can recharge my laptop battery.

 

That Time I Sewed Something

(note: I wrote this post a couple of months ago. Cause I’m awesome.)

I’ve been getting crafty lately. Don’t get mad. I know I told you to keep me away from crafts, and I didn’t tell you I wanted to do it, so you didn’t get a chance to stop me. But it was an impulse. I spent hours researching. I went to Joann’s completely prepared. (Side note: the folks at Michaels are crazy stingy with coupons. The folks at Joann’s? Not so much. Just so ya know.)

As you know, I’m terrible with crafts. This has not always been the case. One time when I was little I fashioned a functional backpack out of paper. True story. I toted my cabbage patch doll around the neighborhood in my paper backpack for weeks. Or days. Maybe hours. I don’t really remember. At some point it finally broke. (Because, you know, it was made of paper. And I was like six.) I tried to make another one, but I was unable to recreate the magic. That’s the day my craftiness died. And when I say died, I mean crossed the river Styx and set up permanent dwelling in Hades (sorry—I’ve been reading The Lightening Thief).

In 4^th grade I insisted on making my mission out of sugar cubes. Disaster. I took Home Ec in 7^th grade. I tried to resurrect the crafty. I sewed a frog (which I stuffed inadequately and was therefore rather pathetic). I made a sequined shirt (which I stupidly put in the washing machine). I made a few tissue box holders. Those actually worked out okay. In fact, they still live on in my house.

I have attempted other crafts, some of which have been reasonable, some of which have not. But the sewing machine and I have never really had a good relationship. I’d say it’s been downright abusive. Both ways. Somehow I’ve managed to get error messages every few minutes and spend considerably more time ripping things apart and trying to unjam the thread in the machine than actually producing something productive. I’m pretty sure I’ve sworn at it, and I’m pretty sure it has sworn right back at me in its evil little machine head. In high school I made a dress for myself that was decidedly asymmetrical. Which was probably fine since I think it was about that time that I cut my own bangs (I think we can all guess how that went).

So the warning lights should have flashed when those four little words popped into my head when I was thinking about a floofy tutu for Emma’s 1^st birthday. “I could make it.”

But the warning lights did not flash. The only thing that was flashing was my deep, abiding desire to be crafty. And save money. Because when I went on Etsy to see about buying one, I realized that the only way on this planet Emma could ever have a tutu would be if I made it myself. So I did what any DIYer would do: I hit the internet. (Side note: how did we ever function without the internet?) I found a couple of tutorials on making a tutu, and I really started to think I could do it. It looked simple, even for me.

Of course that wouldn’t be enough for me. If I could make a tutu, doesn’t it naturally follow that I could make other things? I mean, a little skirt would be so easy. And a little dress. So simple. “I could make these.” Like an addict, I started looking for my next fix. I spent hours looking for tutorials and patterns online for making simple baby girl clothing.

So I took the plunge. I went to Joann’s, armed with a list of things I wanted to make and a list of supplies that I would need. I emerged with fabric and ribbon and elastic and tule and a book on how to make cloth diapers. (yeah—that happened. I’m telling you, I was drunk with confidence and inspiration.) I was a little late picking up the kids, but that wasn’t entirely my fault. It was a little my fault, because I really should not have entered a store I was unfamiliar with, and with only a vague idea of what I wanted to buy, knowing that I only had 20 minutes. But it was also the fault of the crafty people who work there and those that shop there who take their sweet time. Although in retrospect I already knew that about craft stores, so that was probably my fault too. Anyway, it was worth it, because I got a lot of stuff, and I saved a pile of money because the guy that was working the register gave me a wad of coupons.

So I went home, armed with determination and supplies. My mom and I recently bought a sewing machine (I needed to repair some of my diapers), so I was good to go. I started with the tutu. Piece of cake. Except that Ben kept trying to help, so I had to follow him around the house picking up the strips of tule. Other than that, it actually was quick and easy. And, even more to the point, wearable.

Matt took the kids to the mall, and I started on the first sewing machine project: a “ten-minute onesie dress.” Obviously it did not take me ten minutes. Ridiculous. I’m still me. But it only took maybe a half an hour. Quick and mostly easy. And totally wearable. Whoa. Look out, world. This is happening.

I started on project #3: a pillowcase dress. I ran into my first real problem. The thread jammed. The bobbin ran out of thread, and I had to re-thread it. The re-threading was not going well. The curse was creeping back. But I was determined! I would make this happen! And I did! I got the bobbin all set and whipped up that dress like it was nothing. I was the boss of that sewing machine.

So now Emma has a couple of cute little frocks and a tutu. I have a new skill. I’m also pretty sure I’m Superwoman.

The curse is lifted. Time to make my own cloth diapers.

Cloth Diapers and Whatnot

This is probably a weird way to come back to my blog, but I've had a lot of friends who've recently had babies or who are pregnant that are asking me about cloth diapers. So I'm posting this for them. (And for all of you out there who could care less about cloth diapers. For you: you just keep using those disposables. I could care less. Confession: sometimes I miss them. And sometimes I still use them. Sssshhh...don't tell those crazy hippies.) I'm adding pictures of Emma in her cloth diapers so that you'll at least look at this post and make me feel like someone actually reads this blog.


Shopping list for cloth diapering (all links are to my favorite online cloth diaper retailer, sweetbottomsbaby.com. They have a great selection and fast, free shipping. But there are a billion websites out there, so feel free to shop around. Or find a local natural baby store. Here in Orange County we have Granola Babies, and it's awesome.):

My preferred system:

Covers and Inserts.

You'll need covers. How many you need depends on how often you want to do laundry. You'll probably go through 1-3 a day, depending on how often your little cherub poops. So do the math from there. My favorite covers are thirsties duo wraps. But there are lots of others.

Then you'll need inserts. You can use prefolds. If you go with those you'll need some snappis. Or you can use inserts. Honestly, you can put anything you want in there. I prefer hemp or bamboo, as they are super absorbent and trim. But microfiber are the most common, and they work great. They're just too bulky for my skinny minnie. :) You can be done there, if you want, but there are a couple of extras I like to add. I add some fleece so her bottom stays dry, and a flushable liner so I don't have to swirl the poopy diaper in the toilet. Gross. During the summer, or for big outings, or if she has a rash and I need to use cream (you can't use most diaper creams with cloth diapers), I like to have disposable inserts on hand. For the last couple of weeks she was on a strong antibiotic which gave her diarrhea. Liners were useless, and there was no way I was going to swirl all of that diarrhea in the toilet. So we used disposables, and I felt great about it. Choose your battles, folks.

Cover: Bummis Super Whisper Wrap, size small. Not my favorite--doesn't fit very well. Medium is 15-30 pounds, but they aren't adjustable, so they're huge on my girl.But ADORABLE prints. Insert: thirsties hemp, size one.

Cover: Thirsties duo wrap snap. Insert: prefold with snappi.

Cover: Bummis Super Whisper Wrap.This is the medium. Ha. Insert: thirsties hemp, size one.

Cover: Bummis Super Lite. Insert: thirsties hemp, size one.

Cover: Bummis Super Brite, size medium. Same notes as the Super Whisper. But it is a little better. Insert: thirsties hemp, size one.

Cover: Bummis Super Lite. Insert: bamboo

Cover: thirties duo wrap snap. Insert: bamboo

Cover: thirties duo wrap snap. Insert: bamboo

Cover: thirties duo wrap snap. Insert: bamboo

If my system is too complicated (and it kind of is--but it does save money and laundry), you can use pockets. I like thirsties, fuzzibunz, and BumGenius. But I don't use the microfiber inserts that go with them--I use hemp or bamboo. There are a lot of other choices for pocket diapers that I haven't tried. They might be amazing. But the three I've tried work great. You'll need about 5-12 a day, depending on how old your babe is and how often that precious wee one pees.

Cover: Happy Heineys one-size. Insert: thirties hemp, size one

Cover: BumGenius 4.0. Insert: newborn microfiber

Cover: fuzzibunz. Insert: microfiber

Personal preferences: I like snaps more than hook and loop (velcro) and sized better than one-size. Once you hit 15 pounds or so the one-size fit fine.

There are also all-in-ones that don't require stuffing or inserts or whatever. They're more expensive and take forever in the dryer, but having a couple can be handy for babysitters or busy days. I love BumGenius 3.0s, but they don't make them anymore. So you'd have to find them used. BumGenius makes new AIOs called the freetime. I've never tried it, but the reviews are good. I've tried (and loved) bottombumpers.

bottombumpers, size small

thirties AIO, size two (it's bulkier than it looks--I don't love it.)

Swaddlebees AIO, size medium. Again, bulkier than it looks. Probably my least favorite.

Other things you will need: a wetbag for your diaper bag to put dirty diapers in, a diaper pail bag, a diaper pail (I just use a cheapy trash can with a lid from Target), and cloth diaper laundry detergent (you can't wash them with regular detergent--it will eff them up). I also use cloth wipes. You can buy them, or just cut up an old receiving blanket (or t-shirt, or sheet, or whatever). You can use wipe spray or water. I keep the bottle the hospital gave me for my hoo-ha after giving birth filled with water on my changing table.








Suggestion for newborns: I would go with a newborn rental program. Most cloth diapers don't fit newborns, and they poop like a thousand times a day, so you go through a thousand diapers a day, and who can afford that many newborn cloth diapers? No one. So rent them. Granola babies has a great program. If I had it to do over, I would probably do this one.

BumGenius 3.0

Suggestion for swimming: Don't buy those ridiculous disposable swim diapers. Use a BumGenius pocket with no insert. It might not be a good idea to use it in a chlorinated pool. So for those use a cloth swim diaper. It might be pricey, but you really only need one. And if you think about it, it's still cheaper than those stupid disposables.


So those are my cloth diaper notes. Hope it's not too overwhelming.



I've also had a lot of people ask what Emma wants for her birthday. She's one, so she'd probably say "yayayayayayayayaya." If you can't afford one of those, she has a registry on sweetbottomsbaby.com. It's under Emma Miller. From that she mostly wants new wetbags and diaper pail bags and the bottombumpers AIOs. Or a gift card to Joann's so I can make her some new clothes. Or you can buy her whatever you feel like. Or nothing at all. She's one and won't care, and I certainly don't. :)


Happy diapering!

Seasons of Kid-dom

(note: I wrote this post several weeks ago and never got around to posting it)

Kids go through phases. One week they’re kind and sweet and their favorite sentence is “I wuv you.” The next week they’re screaming and hollering “NO!” and throwing their (and your) possessions across the room. Sometimes they go in and out of these phases in the same day. Sometimes you think maybe they’ve got bipolar disorder. But really they just have another disorder, one that is more common: Preschooler.  Or Human. Whatever.

One day a couple of weeks ago the hubs and I were remarking that we really love the phases that both of our little cherubs are in at the moment. Our three-year-old is silly and adventurous and super fun. Our nine-month-old is the same, but with fewer words and more drool. Both zoom around the house with alacrity and tenacity. Fun.

So you can imagine my dismay last week when my sweet, kind, loving son turned into some kind of self-obsessed, entitled, dramatic, crazed stranger. Maybe it could, at least in part, be attributed to his bout of Hand Foot Mouth (which, by the way, CAN GO AND DIE). The poor guy was home all. week. long. I’m sorry, did I say poor guy? I meant poor me. Because he was having the time of his life eating frozen yogurt every day and playing freely with all of his toys while Emma was at the nanny’s. But at some point he seemed to have decided that “No” was no longer in his vocabulary. Now, while he was ill, he got the cold treat for his mouth sores. But other than that all rules continued to apply. It’s not like he got whatever he wanted. But for some reason he felt like he ought to.

So it seems we have entered the Boundary Testing Phase (or as I like to call it, the I Double Dog Dare You to Still Love Me by the End of the Day Phase).

I was pretty excited about going to work last week. Not going to lie.

But we stood strong, and the battles do not last as long at this point. He may not yet have accepted that he cannot bring all of his earthly possessions to bed with him, leave the house naked, jump off the coffee table, ride his bike in the living room, eat candy for breakfast, or leave every toy in the house out on the floor forever. But he understands what it means when the trash bag comes out. 

Also: please add to my I Promised to Never Do This When I’m a Parent but I’ve Gone Ahead and Done It list “Utter the phrase ‘Because I said so.’” 

It’s a good thing he’s so darn cute and has those big blue eyes. 

Ten Months Old!

This actually started out as a nine-month update. But it’s taken me a month to write, so now it’s a ten-month update. So there.

The other night I went through some old-ish posts. It’s really hard to believe that just three months ago Emma was seriously a completely different baby. At seven months she was just transitioning to her crib, just (kind of) beginning to sleep through the night, transitioning out of swaddling, barely eating, and only just starting to kind of be fun and happy. The crazy feels like a distant memory. Vivid. But distant. That feels good. It’s nice to feel some semblance of normalcy. It’s nice to be, at least for the moment, outside of the sleep-deprivation, anxiety, and depression that consumed our family for seven months. It’s akin to coming out of a dark cave and into the sun. Sure, she’s a baby, so she’s still needy and she still cries. She still has reflux and a tendency towards respiratory issues. But seriously. She’s fantastic. Everywhere we go she charms the pants off the world. She smiles and laughs and gets the entire population to stop what they’re doing and smile with her. Given her spirited disposition, I’m thinking this is probably some kind of power play. She’s wooing the world in order to dominate it. But that’s cool. She’d probably do a pretty good job.

 

 

 

 

 

It also occurred to me while reading her eight-month post that she’s changed quite a bit in just the couple of months. She claps and waves and jabbers on and on in her little baby nonsense. She is super social, clearly. So nothing like her parents. Where did my children come from? But I’ll take it. She’s still very independent. And since she can now crawl and pull herself up on the nearest surface and walk alongside it, she’s mobile. And she's quite adept at pushing her walking toys. Look out, world. We’ve got a girl on a mission. To search and find and eat. So if you’re looking to find out whether you’ve adequately baby-proofed your home, look no further. Two minutes in your house and Emma will direct you to all of the spots you missed. She will also help you finish vacuuming and sweeping your floors. With her mouth. Babies are gross. Speaking of hands and mouths, she has an affinity for grass. It used to be fun to take her outside and put her on a blanket with some toys while Ben played. Now it’s not fun. It’s work. Because she laughs at such attempts at boundaries. She simply crawls right off, grabs a handful of grass, and aims it for her mouth. Then she crawls to the pavement. She loves the pavement. Crazy daredevil.

Other stuff she does: she loves the swings, loves being outside, loves her brother, makes a super funny "angry face", blows kisses, and says "yeah" all day long.

At 18 pounds and 28 inches, she’s in the 25^th percentile for weight and the 50^th for height. So she’s doing great. As long as I give her her medication (which, as I’m typing this, I realized I did not do this morning), her reflux is more or less a non-issue. Her breathing problems seem to have abated for the time being. She is a happy, personable, busy, healthy baby girl.

I dare you to not fall completely in love with her.