It Certainly Doesn’t Smell Like Roses

I’ve been cloth diapering for a few weeks now and we’ve officially made the decision to continue with it. This means a trip to the store soon to pick up some more pre-folds because I’d really rather not be doing laundry every day for the next three years. Dan is pretty stoked with the whole situation and I’m surprised and pleased to see he likes it a lot more than he thought he would. Then there’s me. I don’t love it. I don’t think I even like it. I have little fantasies about going back to disposables on like a daily basis, but then I think of the money saved and the potential environmental savings and I just… can’t.

And the thing is – I’m a little bit PO’ed about the whole thing. I like a lot of green things – I prefer using cloth grocery bags over paper or plastic any day. I love nursing and would never really want to go back to the bottle – I’m thrilled it’s working so well this time around. We use reusable water bottles and I can’t even imagine using a new plastic bottle for EVERY bottle of water I drink – because I drink a LOT of water. And there are other things, too, that my sleep deprived brain can’t think of – but the point is – I was pretty sure I’d love cloth diapering, too, in a sort of “so it should follow that…” mentality.

I’ve read blog posts of CD users who absolutely rave about cloth diapering. Who say they can’t even imagine letting a “yucky disposable diaper” touch their darling’s delicate skin now. People seriously seem to love the heck out of cloth diapering and I know people can go a bit over board and exaggerate, but seriously? I thought I’d at least like it. I know that with all things, we have our extremists – the people who love or hate something so much it makes you green in the gills just listening to them talk about it. But even with that grain of salt taken… I clearly expected too much.

Because now that I think about – seriously – we’re talking about diapers here. About poop and urine. Does anybody really like changing diapers, like in a, “Gee golly I can’t wait for another diaper change!” kind of way? Does anybody love the rustic smell of throwing out a bag of dirty diapers or washing reusable ones? Really? They are diapers – they stink by nature. Are all these enthusiasts full of *it, or am I reading into their raving the wrong way?

Basically, I think I set myself up for failure by somehow imagining this level of CD enjoyment that just doesn’t exist. Because seriously, picture when disposable diapers first came out – do we think that housewives everywhere said, “Yuck – no thanks!” Or that those same housewives, before the invention of disposable diapers, were like singing songs merrily about how much they loved changing diapers and washing them? It’s not exactly a party game people.

Don’t get me wrong – there is something to be said for not having to run to the store in the middle of the night because we somehow used the last diaper and need to buy more – never mind the cost savings of not having to buy diapers every week or month or whatever until BB is potty trained. That’s kind of sweet. And those little water proof covers can be cute even though they are also gigantic and practically double my daughter’s clothing size – and she’s a peanut, for the record. And I mean, the size of the diapers isn’t exactly the hugest of inconveniences, I can deal. And I know that poop stinks, period – so even though I personally think it smells WAY worse on cloth diapers, whatever, it’s not like it smelled awesome in a Huggies. All I’m really saying – is that I’m disappointed in myself for expecting some weird level of happiness that diaper changing is never going to deliver – and mildly miffed with the world wide web for encouraging that level of excitement, even though it isn’t really their fault.

If I’d gone into this whole thing only wanting to save money and feel like I’d done my part environmentally… I don’t think I’d be so disappointed. If I’d somehow remembered that at the end of the day we were still talking about poop, I wouldn’t have had such unrealistic expectations. But it really has me wondering, am I the only one? How many parents out there cloth diaper, not because they freaking love it to pieces, but because of the cost savings, etc.? Has anyone else soldiered on with CDing despite not loving it in the least? Show of hands?

A Closer Look

I love the picture I posted in my Wordless Wednesday this week – the expression on MM’s face takes my breath away and I think the colors came out beautifully (then the sepia and black and white versions added their own charms), but there is one thing I don’t love about it and I haven’t mentioned it yet to anyone except my husband – I think it’s time to get this off my chest so we can all collectively yell a hearty WTF together because seriously. First things first, the picture again:

Tear your eyes away from my adorable son for a moment and look where he’s standing. That’s not just a big old pile of random rust there. If you look closely (or maybe it’s immediately obvious to you way smarter parents out there reading this) that’s fire damage. The slide behind him literallly melted from the heat of the flames and you can see the color difference between the pole in front of MM and the pole behind him. Someone, it would appear, had a bonfire on the apartment’s playground – right where my son is now standing. It took me way too long to figure this out before whisking him off the damn thing.

I mean, seriously? WTF? First there are the random preschoolers wandering around the apartment complex and playground alone and unsupervised, free to set their worst examples for my impressionable overly friendly three year old. The litter. The teenagers who loiter around the playground or toss a ball around so close to the playground that you occasionally have to duck your head to avoid being hit (something my three year old wouldn’t even think to do if it came near his head). All of this was annoying and had me apprehensive about going to the small playground, which was kind of a bummer because for me it was a major selling point for this apartment. But throwing a bonfire on the playground?? Seriously? How could they think that was an okay thing to do? Now I just plain refuse to go there with MM which really sucks because it’s the only one in walking distance. I know, blah blah lazy me – get in the car and drive. That’s fine, I will. But – – I can’t get past, WTF?

I love our apartment – the layout, the kitchen, it feels right and it’s working. The price is decent. But every ammenity which seemed like a bonus point lately feels like a big let down. The washing machine and dryer which mostly work but end up being a pain in my butt – whatever I can deal with that as much as it’s annoying, it’s better than dragging two kids to a coin op. But the playground – that was a big thing on my list. I’m glad they don’t have a pool now because I’d never feel safe using it – lord knows what size fires they could start in there.

Basically, right now I’m just waiting rather impatiently to crawl out of the financial downturn we took after the layoff and start saving enough to buy a house. It is now the only thing I’m concerned about apart from the day to day whatevers. I don’t care about vacations right now or whatever. I just want a house. I dream about having my own little (fenced in) backyard with a swing set or a kiddie pool – to be able to talk about getting a puppy or planting a garden or buying outdoor furniture. To be able to just walk outside and have a cookout, rather than figuring out somewhere to use the tabletop grill. I want to paint walls and drill holes without thinking about how long it will take to fill them in when we leave. I want to own my domain and be the one in charge of it. I’m tired of WTF.

The Post That Isn’t The Post

Still nothing. I’ll just get that out there right away since I’m sure many of my regular readers were hoping this would be The Post. I know I was hoping this would be The Post. I have been kind of avoidy lately – not wanting to answer the phone just to say, “No, nothing yet.” Not wanting to write another post about how we still haven’t heard anything. I keep hoping, if I just wait another hour or two, I’ll have something way better to write about than what I have to say now. Which is pretty much – we’re getting really impatient and grumpy and to top matters off, I have a soar throat, which is making me doubly grumpy. I’m hardly hungry at all, which is weird for a hungry pregnant woman. So far today I’ve had a small cup of yogurt, some ramen noodles, two cups of tea and a cup of coffee. And water. Formerly delicious, now mostly just a welcome relief to my thirst, water. I’m tired of being grumpy. I’m tired of my throat hurting. I’m tired of this gigantic belly that I can hardly complain about because “I haven’t gained any weight at all,” but I still feel like I’m trapped in someone else’s way less healthy, hugely pregnant body. I have no energy, I’m losing my good humor and I kind of just want to go back to bed. Except I don’t want to miss the moment when he finds out, because good lord it’s gotta happen soon. They wouldn’t actually make us wait a full two weeks would they??

I really want it to be Saturday, because by Saturday we’ll have found out one way or another, hopefully several days before then – and more importantly we have lots of plans this weekend with family that I’m looking forward to. Like breakfast at a restaurant my MIL has been recommending to me for like two years or something, my brother in law’s Eagle Scout ceremony, and Mother’s Day weekend. I can already tell you pretty plainly that I expect to get nothing for Mother’s Day (except that aforementioned breakfast out to eat) and I don’t really care. Our savings is dwindling away and knowing whether we’ll be employed again is present enough for me right now. I’d be a little furious if he bought a card and I doubt he’ll hand make one, although you never know. And MM? He’s only three so he certainly won’t be coming up with something on his own. Still, it’s a holiday and I am looking forward to it. Or at least the BBQ we’re going to that day at the in laws – and church that day looks like it will be a good one, according to the newsletter.

I am bummed about leaving this church if and when we move. I really like – I like the people, I love the stimulating information we seem to get each week, the discussion fodder it provides my husband and I – plus there is not much cuter than hearing your preschooler say, “I wanna go to church,” even when I know he’s only talking about all the toys in their nursery. It’s still nice to hear. I hope that the UU churches in the area are nice. I’ve looked at their websites but it’s kind of hard to get a feel for them that way. Will they be as nice as this one? Better? Or nothing like it. It saddens me that we’ve finally found a church we love and now we’re moving. And now when we go to church I kind of just feel like I’m going through the motions because it doesn’t really belong to me anymore. I know that’s not really true, but it’s how I feel. It’s how I feel about a lot of things. This isn’t really my apartment, it’s just the place I’m sleeping in, where all my stuff is, where I wait for an email from Dream Company. This isn’t really my library – it’s just building with books that I’m not sure I want to check out because I don’t know if I’ll have time to finish reading them before we move, if we move.

God help me if we don’t move – as much as it would make some things – like the birth of our second child – a little bit easier and our family would be kind of thrilled in spite of themselves. But we’ve already mentally said goodbye to this place. We’ve made tentative plans, googled preschools and grocery stores and UU churches. We’ve planned a google map complete with preferred hotels because we’re leaning towards driving to Dream State instead of flying so I don’t have to deal with another airport so soon – and so we can pretend we’re on vacation since we surely won’t be able to afford a real one. We’ve looked into the prices of moving companies and boxes, the apartment we want to live in, whose website is permanently open in a tab in my Firefox browser. We’ve looked into the area hospitals, the health insurance options, the OBGYNs in the area and which clinics I’d rather go to for prenatal appointments. I know where the closest pizza restaurants are. I’m ready. And tired of waiting.

Alright, hubby is mandating a family walk (in the cold, wet weather) to try and get some fresh air and improve all our moods. Because we’re all feeling about as pent up and annoyed as me – and I wouldn’t doubt if he’s feeling worse (minus the sore throat) what with this being his career on the line and all. Maybe we’ll come back to an answer?

People You May Wish You’d Never Met

I’ve got a (not uncommon) bone to pick with Facebook‘s People You May Know. When you first join Facebook this little tool can be helpful – by connecting the dots between your friends and their friends, you can quickly assemble your friends list, take a stroll down memory lane and get connected. I get it. It’s useful. But after awhile the People You May Know list starts look more like, the “ex boyfriends you’d rather not be reminded still exist” list or the “these people used to be your friends but aren’t now” list.

I knew a lot of people in college (and others in high school). I do not want to continue my friendship with all of them (especially the ex boyfriends or the “took his side after the break up” old friends). And if I’ve already said, “Nope – no thanks” by checking the little x next to their picture, why show them again a day, hour or week later? Are they trying to cause me unnecessary grief? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not really that big of a deal – but it still seems silly. Why does Facebook assume we want to friend every person we’ve ever met or our friends have met or went to our school within a ten year radius of us. I guess for some people, this is useful or relevant information, but really. Enough is enough.

I think Reintroduction at Dear Old Love still says it best with:

Facebook keeps putting you in the list of People I May Know. Facebook has only slightly more tact than the guy who introduced us at a party and then said, “Oh, wait. Never mind. You guys totally did it.”

I may know you, but I don’t have to like it.

He’s Leaving On a Jet Plane…

This morning my husband woke up at the butt crack of dawn (or like 6am or something, I don’t know, I wasn’t really awake) and left for his business trip, on the other side of the country in warm, sunny San Diego. Which I told him about 800 times is where The Zoo is, because having seen Madagascar 800 times in the past couple weeks, I’m an expert on these things. And no, I don’t imagine he’ll have any time to go to the Zoo. But if I were going to San Diego, that’s exactly where I’d want to go first. Obviously.

I think I’ve been pretty good about this whole thing, trying to focus on the positive like being able to hog the bed for a week, and stay up reading as late as I want, etc. I’ll be able to cook dinner whenever we’re hungry and won’t have to wait if dh is working late or something. But let’s be honest, this sucks. My husband is some kind of terrific and he really makes my day easier, every day, in a million ways. My sanity relies on him coming home at night, being able to veg out with him on the couch and watch our favorite shows, and vent to each other about our respective shitty days. If he were home right now we’d probably be planning some kind of terrific family adventure since we already have all our errands done. I will not be embarking on a similar adventure without him. I’m a tired cranky pregnant mother of a 2 year old. We’ll stay home and watch movies and eat meals and hope the day passes semi-quickly. And then we’ll do the same thing Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

Basically, today might as well be Monday except it’s the worst, longest Monday in the world because dh won’t be home until so late Thursday night that it might as well be Friday morning. That’s my silver lining – when he does get home, it will be Friday. One quick day of work and then the most well needed weekend EVER. But it’s kind of a lame silver lining. I’m seriously dreading this week, while trying to remain positive, but I’m pregnant and hormonal so mostly I’m just dwelling on the negative and trying to refrain from eating my way through all 30 cookies that I baked for Game Night last night (okay so after the ones people ate, it’s probably like 20, but whatever) before noon.

Last night we got into a fight over like, nothing. And we realized after I finished sobbing like a baby that we were both tired and really not looking forward to this week. DH may be going to sunny California, but it’s not like it’s for fun. It’s for a Trade Show, which for Engineers is I guess like the 3rd circle of hell, because they are expected to socialize. Or something. I don’t know. All I’m hearing is warm, sunny California. Without me. I’d take that over cold, boring here pretty much any day. But point is, we had both been putting on brave faces for weeks since first hearing about this trip and last night we were DONE pretending. And I won’t pretend now. This sucks.

I will admit, that so far, we’re doing fine. But dude, it’s 10am. He’s only been gone for 3 hours. We’ll see how I’m doing at dinner tonight, or breakfast tomorrow. Then we’ll make a call as to whether or not I’ll escape from this week with my sanity. And yes, I know, it’s only a week. Some of you probably do this all the freaking time – military wives, I know. I could never be you. I’m not that strong. And also, we’ve only been married 2 years. We’ve never been apart this long since we started dating. This is huge for us. It’s a milestone. A sucky, awful stupid pointless milestone that I will go kicking and screaming through. Or I’ll be fine. We’ll see.

Please Don’t Troll Me, Because I Hate Her

I just watched about fifteen minutes of the VP Debate (I know, I’m surprised, too, but they canceled Grey’s Anatomy for this and a little whisper in my ear kept saying I should care more and pay more attention). This was the first time I’d heard Sarah Palin actually speak (you know, instead of Tina Fey doing an eerily accurate impersonation) and I was surprised at how quickly she infuriated me. I don’t dislike anybody in this race EXCEPT for her and it kind of astonishes me. Up until now it’s all been a lot of he said she said SNL said, but it didn’t take long for me to come to the realization that all my inclinations were accurate in spite of my lack of bothering to hear her speak up until now.

The things that come out of her mouth sound like they should be honey to my ears (“as a maverick soccer mom from Alaska, I can tell you…”) except that my BRAIN knows how to call bullshit. BULLSHIT. All of it, I’m sorry.

I liked Joe Biden and I like him more now, I loved watching him try his hardest not to laugh his ass off every time she opened her mouth. I loved that he called her bluff, pointed out when she was avoiding answering a question and that she lied and skewed her information. And I nearly lunged into the tv and slapped her upside her trendy half-updo head when she did it again. Then I turned off the tv. Sorry, but I don’t need to hear anymore. Smarter bloggers than me will be writing about it later.

Please, to any Palin fans reading this, don’t bother ripping me a new one, I don’t really want to hear it. I’m just going to go back to my happy place, planning JNatalie and John Mayer’s wedding and saying la la la la la I can’t hear you Sarah Palin, please go away now…