Last fall, I read about an essay contest in Real Simple magazine. The essay question was: What is the bravest thing you have ever done?
At the time, I was looking to write more, so I figured I would jump into the contest. How cool would it be to be published in Real Simple? I conveniently forgot I would probably be up against thousands of entries.
The winning essay (which is extremely touching and well done) was published in this month's issue. And while I didn't win first, second, or third place, I thought I'd share my submission here.
I'd like to say that, despite my serious initial struggles with becoming a mother, I'm really happy with where I am now, so please don't worry that I'm in a pit of parenting despair or anything!
As always, feel free to share any thoughts.
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I don’t consider myself brave. I’ve never run into a burning building to save a person or fought a life-threatening disease.
But if I had to nail bravery down to one act, I’d have to say that walking away from my career and becoming a stay-at-home-mom was by far the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
I became a parent at the age of 31. I’d been working full-time in non-profit communications and public affairs for a number of years in New York City and then Washington, D.C. My job took me all over the country and I felt blessed to have it.
Some come into parenthood easily. I am not one of those people. From the induced labor forward, I struggled desperately with motherhood. Looking back, it’s clear I suffered from some level of postpartum depression. I was getting no sleep, my baby girl was struggling with issues I couldn’t figure out (we know now that she suffers from severe food allergies), and I felt trapped. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
About two weeks after my daughter’s birth, we celebrated Christmas with my family (who had lovingly made the trek from Canada to D.C. to visit us for the holiday). The Ryan family loves Christmas. But as much as we tried, Christmas 2006 was not the same as years past.
I can vividly remember getting out of the shower right before for Christmas dinner (my Mom calling from downstairs that the food was ready) and breaking down in tears. My heavy breasts were leaking milk all over my stomach and blood was draining from the wounds of having given birth to a 9 pound 6.5 ounce baby only weeks before. At that moment, on one of my favorite days of the year, I imagined what it would be like to walk in front of a truck and put an end to the misery. Pretty dark stuff.
I dreaded every night. As much as my husband tried to help, he had to perform at work and needed to get some sleep. I felt so alone and scared when bed time would roll around. My child would not sleep, which meant I could not sleep. And I am one of those people who really need their sleep (as in eight hours a night). The cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days left me desperate, at times. I sadly never reached out for any help. Perhaps motherhood was supposed to be this hard? People had always told me you don’t know how hard it is until you do it. But this seemed extreme.
We lived in a small row house in a central neighborhood at the time. Every morning I would stand in front of our living room window watching all of the “worker bees” head towards their various workplaces. They looked so fresh and well dressed. They walked with such purpose. They were like I used to be, and what I still wanted to be.
The United States is the only industrialized country in the world without guaranteed paid maternity leave. I was lucky my place of employment offered eight weeks.
Before I knew it, those eight weeks had passed by in a foggy haze of depression, dirty diapers, constant breast feeding, swaddling, shooshing and exhaustion (I now understand why sleep deprivation is a form of torture). Most days, I couldn’t think straight. I had a lot of what I called “no drive” days because I would have been too much of a hazard on the road.
Clinging to the idea that I would go back to work, I took advantage of 12 weeks leave provided by the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). I figured that would give me time to get my head screwed back on properly, or to magically snap back into the person I was before becoming a mother.
As the seasons shifted from Winter to Spring, I would day dream about how amazing it would be to sit at my desk and catch up on emails while drinking hot coffee. I would imagine how sweet it would feel to board a plane solo for meetings in another city. How I would be able to sleep all alone in a nice, quiet hotel room. How I would only have to worry about taking care of myself and my professional commitments. And to converse with intelligent adults? Oh, how divine. How could I have taken it all for granted?
As I slowly made my way out of the fog of new motherhood, I realized that having a small baby and a full-time career wasn’t going to blend as easily as I had first anticipated. If I was going back to work, I would need quality child care that would cover my travel schedule and allow my husband and I the flexibility to continue with our professional commitments (he’s in consulting and has an unreliable schedule).
Frankly, I wasn’t making the kind of money that would easily cover the additional expenses of child care, dry cleaning, daily lunches, etc. How far ahead financially would I need to come out to make going back to work worth it? Or should I be working simply because I was not cut out to be a full-time, at-home parent? What was best for me? And what was best for my little family?
The answers to those questions changed as rapidly as the diapers I was changing. One moment I would be sure I had to go back to the office. How could I have invested all those years in school to now sabotage everything I had worked so hard to build professionally? The next moment I would think of how fast my beautiful (and still extremely difficult and exhausting) daughter was growing and how it would be such a shame to miss out on all those “firsts.” I knew in my heart that as shaky a job as I was doing, no one else was going to try to soothe and comfort her like I was.
I had become a mom and I was slowly realizing that my identity had profoundly shifted.
And here’s where the bravery part kicks in. About half way through my FMLA leave, I met my boss for a lunch date, ordered a glass of white wine, and quit my job. He knew it was coming...even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself for months.
I had absolutely no plan. How long would I be home for? How would I fill our days? And what about all the other jobs I was taking on? I was now CEO of our family and that came with some serious responsibility.
I became the house cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry doing, dinner making, stay-at-home mom. I had to shake off my old “worker bee” identity and try to embrace this new, and frankly, much less glamorous identity. And I realized I was lucky to have the choice.
There were many bumps along the path to finding our family “groove.” Especially as we threw another baby into the mix two years after my daughter’s birth. I frequently questioned my parenting abilities (or lack thereof). I wondered why I still struggled while other moms made it look so easy (especially the moms working outside of the home! How did they do it?). I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it was a good five years before I felt like I (mostly) had a handle on everything.
On tough days, my old “worker bee” identity would pop out and reprimand my current “stay-at-home” identity for having given up my job. To this day, almost seven years into it, I can’t help but wonder how far I could have gone if I had stuck with my career. I’ll never know. While I’ve been doing some freelance writing, my old career path is dead.
It’s funny because I probably could have written the same essay if I had made the opposite choice. Going back to work, as the majority of new moms do, would have been extremely brave. But for me, walking away from my career was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. I’m proud of what I did and I’d like to think it was really brave.
Showing posts with label diapers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diapers. Show all posts
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Strange Days
It was a strange day. Mostly good, but strange. We dropped the babe off at school and the only one crying was the little guy. I think he knew he was losing his play mate. The babe was happy and confident and gave me a great big hug before we left. She was thrilled to be back.
The little guy and I then went to the dermatologist to have a potentially funky mole I recently found checked out. Turns out it was nothing to be concerned about. Another good thing.
After nap time the little guy wandered around the house calling out his sister's name (not really, but his version of it). He had forgotten she was at school and couldn't understand where she could be. Poor kid.
But the story I think you'll really appreciate is the poop on my foot story. At bedtime I brought the little guy upstairs and took off his diaper at the entrance to his room. I assumed it was just pee in there. It was not (you know what they say about making assumptions). So I brought him over to the changing table and tried to avoid allowing any poo pellets from falling on the ground. I was concerned I had gotten poop on the bottom of my black pants so I took them off. I cleaned my son up and put him in the tub. I then realized I felt something strange on the bottom of my foot. I had a look and found a nice chunk of smushed poo on my left foot. So there I was, standing in my underwear, with stinky poop on my foot, and a happy son in the tub. Not the end of the world.
I got my husband and daughter to watch the little guy while he played in the bath so I could retrace my steps and wipe up any poop smudges I could identify (there were a few). I will never know if I missed any spots. Luckily I hadn't walked beyond my son's bedroom and the bathroom. Regardless, it was gross and totally my fault. Lesson learned, I should always assume my son has poop in his diaper!
The little guy and I then went to the dermatologist to have a potentially funky mole I recently found checked out. Turns out it was nothing to be concerned about. Another good thing.
After nap time the little guy wandered around the house calling out his sister's name (not really, but his version of it). He had forgotten she was at school and couldn't understand where she could be. Poor kid.
But the story I think you'll really appreciate is the poop on my foot story. At bedtime I brought the little guy upstairs and took off his diaper at the entrance to his room. I assumed it was just pee in there. It was not (you know what they say about making assumptions). So I brought him over to the changing table and tried to avoid allowing any poo pellets from falling on the ground. I was concerned I had gotten poop on the bottom of my black pants so I took them off. I cleaned my son up and put him in the tub. I then realized I felt something strange on the bottom of my foot. I had a look and found a nice chunk of smushed poo on my left foot. So there I was, standing in my underwear, with stinky poop on my foot, and a happy son in the tub. Not the end of the world.
I got my husband and daughter to watch the little guy while he played in the bath so I could retrace my steps and wipe up any poop smudges I could identify (there were a few). I will never know if I missed any spots. Luckily I hadn't walked beyond my son's bedroom and the bathroom. Regardless, it was gross and totally my fault. Lesson learned, I should always assume my son has poop in his diaper!
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Bum Bum
$16.00 for parking
$20.00 co-pay for doctor's office visit
$79.99 for 2 different diaper rash creams not covered by insurance
Helping my baby boy not have an excruciatingly painful rash on his bottom? Well....you know the answer to that.
$20.00 co-pay for doctor's office visit
$79.99 for 2 different diaper rash creams not covered by insurance
Helping my baby boy not have an excruciatingly painful rash on his bottom? Well....you know the answer to that.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Potty Talk
For some reason I can't stop talking about bowel movements and bums this week.
First off, a story from yesterday afternoon. For some time our Tuesdays have revolved around activities; the little guy's music class in the morning and soccer for the babe in the afternoon. Yesterday was our last music class for the season and we are in the process of doing make-up soccer classes for all the rainy days we've missed.
We had another gorgeous day and I was actually pretty psyched for soccer. I had everything ready for 3:00 pm when I leave to pick up the babe; the multiple drinks, the snacks (including some lovely cut up grapes), the ball and shin pads. I just had to get the babe changed at home and have everyone hit the potty/diaper change one last time. As we got close to the soccer field (later than expected), the babe started complaining her tummy hurt. After a beautiful parallel parking job, she informed me she had to go poo.
As soccer is held at one of those nifty parks without a public bathroom, we drove off to the closest McDonald's for a potty trip (I figured they owed me after the Shrek glass recall). I got both kids out of the car (even though the babe kept asking why we couldn't just leave the little guy while we went in), to the bathroom, and got the babe on the toilet. She sat there (and managed to touch every gross public bathroom thing possible) and only let out a little pee. She then declared, "I don't have to go."
ARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So we wash up, head back to the car, get buckled back into the car seats, pack up the stroller, and head back to the field. "My tummy still hurts.....WAAAAAAA...," I hear in the back seat. "Let's just try playing for 10 minutes and then if you want to leave, we can," I reply. She agrees, but then keeps on complaining. "FINE, do you want to go home and rest?" I ask. The answer was yes. So I turn around and we drive back home (it's close to 5:00 pm at this point). She cried all the way. In fact, I almost considered taking her to Children's Hospital in case her appendix was bursting or something. But I sucked it up and we made it back in one piece. The babe got changed, lay in her bed with her pacifiers for a few minutes, and came downstairs to declare that she was fine. So much for soccer.
The other bum related story has to do with the little guy. The poor kid has some pretty wicked diaper rash. The problem is that he keeps pooping these little smudgy poops and I am constantly having to change him to avoid the situation getting worse. This causes him so much pain he's been wailing, kicking, screaming and doing anything he can think of to try and stop me. It is breaking my heart and I'm not sure what to do. The skin is broken in a few places and I'm using some serious diaper cream, but I really think he just needs to stop pooping constantly so his little bum can heal. Thoughts and suggestions are more than welcome!
First off, a story from yesterday afternoon. For some time our Tuesdays have revolved around activities; the little guy's music class in the morning and soccer for the babe in the afternoon. Yesterday was our last music class for the season and we are in the process of doing make-up soccer classes for all the rainy days we've missed.
We had another gorgeous day and I was actually pretty psyched for soccer. I had everything ready for 3:00 pm when I leave to pick up the babe; the multiple drinks, the snacks (including some lovely cut up grapes), the ball and shin pads. I just had to get the babe changed at home and have everyone hit the potty/diaper change one last time. As we got close to the soccer field (later than expected), the babe started complaining her tummy hurt. After a beautiful parallel parking job, she informed me she had to go poo.
As soccer is held at one of those nifty parks without a public bathroom, we drove off to the closest McDonald's for a potty trip (I figured they owed me after the Shrek glass recall). I got both kids out of the car (even though the babe kept asking why we couldn't just leave the little guy while we went in), to the bathroom, and got the babe on the toilet. She sat there (and managed to touch every gross public bathroom thing possible) and only let out a little pee. She then declared, "I don't have to go."
ARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So we wash up, head back to the car, get buckled back into the car seats, pack up the stroller, and head back to the field. "My tummy still hurts.....WAAAAAAA...," I hear in the back seat. "Let's just try playing for 10 minutes and then if you want to leave, we can," I reply. She agrees, but then keeps on complaining. "FINE, do you want to go home and rest?" I ask. The answer was yes. So I turn around and we drive back home (it's close to 5:00 pm at this point). She cried all the way. In fact, I almost considered taking her to Children's Hospital in case her appendix was bursting or something. But I sucked it up and we made it back in one piece. The babe got changed, lay in her bed with her pacifiers for a few minutes, and came downstairs to declare that she was fine. So much for soccer.
The other bum related story has to do with the little guy. The poor kid has some pretty wicked diaper rash. The problem is that he keeps pooping these little smudgy poops and I am constantly having to change him to avoid the situation getting worse. This causes him so much pain he's been wailing, kicking, screaming and doing anything he can think of to try and stop me. It is breaking my heart and I'm not sure what to do. The skin is broken in a few places and I'm using some serious diaper cream, but I really think he just needs to stop pooping constantly so his little bum can heal. Thoughts and suggestions are more than welcome!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Saving 30 Cents
Today was a glorious day in Washington, D.C. A perfect spring day. So perfect, I took the little guy to the park in the morning, and both kids to the park after school.
Per our routine, the kids stripped off their park clothes when we got home. We all cleaned up and changed into our comfy "home" clothes. I grabbed a diaper and one of those one piece outfits for the little guy. But when I went to put on the diaper, the sticky tab on one side broke off. Well, I'm not going to waste the whole 30 cent diaper because of a broken sticky tab. So I pulled the outfit on over his head and went downstairs to find some tape. And yes, I proceeded to tape up one side of his diaper (not very well, apparently).
After dinner the kids were watching our new Baby Signing Time DVD (thanks, K), when the babe came into the kitchen to complain that the living room was smelly. I replied that it was probably just her brother's bum. This kid seems to poop non-stop and the babe has gotten pretty good at letting me know when he stinks.
So I walk into the living room and am struck by a pungent odour. Then I see the poo smeared diaper lying on the ground and the little guy walking around with a wet lower half. It hits me like a ton of bricks. He took off his diaper, and peed and pooed in his one piece outfit and has been walking around climbing and sitting on things. And yes, that is a little bit of poo on his hand. I suppose he could have been painting the walls with poo, so it wasn't as out of control as it could have been.
Off we went upstairs for clean up time. I took off the outfit and found poo caked on the inside. By the end of the day, this kid just stinks. By the end of today, it was beyond stink...it's like the stink had moved in to stay. To make matters worse, the babe managed to do a #2 while I was working on project "clean up little guy." I have to say, it was a poop fiesta.
Apologies for the grossness of this entry, but being a Mom can be pretty gross. I had a number of things I could have written about today, but for some reason, this was the nugget I wanted to share. I'm sure I'll switch gears tomorrow!
Per our routine, the kids stripped off their park clothes when we got home. We all cleaned up and changed into our comfy "home" clothes. I grabbed a diaper and one of those one piece outfits for the little guy. But when I went to put on the diaper, the sticky tab on one side broke off. Well, I'm not going to waste the whole 30 cent diaper because of a broken sticky tab. So I pulled the outfit on over his head and went downstairs to find some tape. And yes, I proceeded to tape up one side of his diaper (not very well, apparently).
After dinner the kids were watching our new Baby Signing Time DVD (thanks, K), when the babe came into the kitchen to complain that the living room was smelly. I replied that it was probably just her brother's bum. This kid seems to poop non-stop and the babe has gotten pretty good at letting me know when he stinks.
So I walk into the living room and am struck by a pungent odour. Then I see the poo smeared diaper lying on the ground and the little guy walking around with a wet lower half. It hits me like a ton of bricks. He took off his diaper, and peed and pooed in his one piece outfit and has been walking around climbing and sitting on things. And yes, that is a little bit of poo on his hand. I suppose he could have been painting the walls with poo, so it wasn't as out of control as it could have been.
Off we went upstairs for clean up time. I took off the outfit and found poo caked on the inside. By the end of the day, this kid just stinks. By the end of today, it was beyond stink...it's like the stink had moved in to stay. To make matters worse, the babe managed to do a #2 while I was working on project "clean up little guy." I have to say, it was a poop fiesta.
Apologies for the grossness of this entry, but being a Mom can be pretty gross. I had a number of things I could have written about today, but for some reason, this was the nugget I wanted to share. I'm sure I'll switch gears tomorrow!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Om
Despite all the belly aching in my last post, I actually have it pretty good.
Today I did something I've never done before. The little guy and I went to a 'Baby and Mama' yoga class at my old studio in Dupont Circle. It was very cute and I really enjoyed it, despite the fact that babies like to interrupt the yoga practice quite frequently. I have gotten quite into yoga in the past, and have dropped the practice just as many times. The whole having 2 babies thing has definitely moved yoga down my list of priorities over the past 3 years, despite the fact I'd probably be a lot more sane if I kept it nearer to the top of the list.
A lot of the folks there were first time parents. I found myself telling one woman struggling with going back to work that I didn't regret quitting my job 2 1/2 years ago. I was actually blabbing on about how rewarding it is to be your baby's primary care giver full time. It's a good thing she wasn't hanging out with me yesterday.
I was struck by another funny thing. First time parents are really slow at diaper changing. I was amazed at the sweet way in which they dealt with the process. I am definitely at the down and dirty stage of my diaper changing career.
Anyway, I may actually do the class again. Perhaps it is equivalent to watching TV and eating bon bons. The fact that it's in my old neighborhood is also a bonus. It ends up being an expensive outing when you factor in our marvelous babysitter for the babe, but I figure it's a well deserved treat for the little guy and I. After all, it's best to start 'em young with good habits!
Today I did something I've never done before. The little guy and I went to a 'Baby and Mama' yoga class at my old studio in Dupont Circle. It was very cute and I really enjoyed it, despite the fact that babies like to interrupt the yoga practice quite frequently. I have gotten quite into yoga in the past, and have dropped the practice just as many times. The whole having 2 babies thing has definitely moved yoga down my list of priorities over the past 3 years, despite the fact I'd probably be a lot more sane if I kept it nearer to the top of the list.
A lot of the folks there were first time parents. I found myself telling one woman struggling with going back to work that I didn't regret quitting my job 2 1/2 years ago. I was actually blabbing on about how rewarding it is to be your baby's primary care giver full time. It's a good thing she wasn't hanging out with me yesterday.
I was struck by another funny thing. First time parents are really slow at diaper changing. I was amazed at the sweet way in which they dealt with the process. I am definitely at the down and dirty stage of my diaper changing career.
Anyway, I may actually do the class again. Perhaps it is equivalent to watching TV and eating bon bons. The fact that it's in my old neighborhood is also a bonus. It ends up being an expensive outing when you factor in our marvelous babysitter for the babe, but I figure it's a well deserved treat for the little guy and I. After all, it's best to start 'em young with good habits!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
This Past Week
Last week I was at the Rite Aide to buy some overnight diapers for the babe. A homeless man sitting outside the front door jumped up to help me with maneuvering the stroller through the entrance. He was very kind.
While I was in the store I thought about giving him some change on my way out. I normally don't give money to people on the street as we're more of the registered charity kind of people. But he had been very thoughtful so I grabbed some coins from my wallet as I prepared to leave the store. When I made it through the door, he was sitting outside talking on a cell phone. I put the change back in my pocket and just smiled as I walked by.
I appreciated the help with the stroller, but I just can't justify giving money to someone on a cell phone. Is that wrong?
On another matter, my landlady came by this week with some work guys to check out our CAC system. She was sweet enough to bring an orange beanie baby for the babe named "Dearest." The babe seemed pretty impressed with the gift. After the landlady left, I went to the bathroom, with the door open, as usual. As I was washing my hands, the babe snuck in behind me and dumped Dearest in the toilet. I'm not sure what to do with Dearest now. It says surface wash only, so I guess the babe can just play with a toilet water toy. It had been flushed, so it can't be that bad.
While I was in the store I thought about giving him some change on my way out. I normally don't give money to people on the street as we're more of the registered charity kind of people. But he had been very thoughtful so I grabbed some coins from my wallet as I prepared to leave the store. When I made it through the door, he was sitting outside talking on a cell phone. I put the change back in my pocket and just smiled as I walked by.
I appreciated the help with the stroller, but I just can't justify giving money to someone on a cell phone. Is that wrong?
On another matter, my landlady came by this week with some work guys to check out our CAC system. She was sweet enough to bring an orange beanie baby for the babe named "Dearest." The babe seemed pretty impressed with the gift. After the landlady left, I went to the bathroom, with the door open, as usual. As I was washing my hands, the babe snuck in behind me and dumped Dearest in the toilet. I'm not sure what to do with Dearest now. It says surface wash only, so I guess the babe can just play with a toilet water toy. It had been flushed, so it can't be that bad.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Serious Progress
The babe has been dealing with on again, off again diaper rash. We were at the pediatrician's office yesterday for her 15 month appointment and she mentioned the babe was also dealing with some yeast infection mixed in with the diaper rash. YUCK!
So we have a new antifungal cream to rub on. The pharmacist stressed how important it is to try and keep her dry and watch for cues that she's doing her business (he also recommended we try Boudreaux's Butt Paste, which we are doing). I have picked up a few things by watching her over the past year, but I'm not an expert on catching all wet or soiled diapers. When the babe goes for a poo, I generally smell it and will ask her if she did a "stinky poo poo" while waving my hand in the air (making the internationally accepted stinky sign). She nods and off we go to deal with it.
This morning, the babe walked over to me waving her hand in the stinky poo poo motion. I asked her if she did a stinky poo poo and she nodded her head "yes". Upstairs we went, and by George, she had done a stinky poo poo. How cool is it that she notified me of her business? This is serious communication and excellent progress in the struggle to keep her diaper dry.
On another note, the babe is FINALLY 20 pounds. It took a while, but we made it. The car seat can now officially be forward facing.
So we have a new antifungal cream to rub on. The pharmacist stressed how important it is to try and keep her dry and watch for cues that she's doing her business (he also recommended we try Boudreaux's Butt Paste, which we are doing). I have picked up a few things by watching her over the past year, but I'm not an expert on catching all wet or soiled diapers. When the babe goes for a poo, I generally smell it and will ask her if she did a "stinky poo poo" while waving my hand in the air (making the internationally accepted stinky sign). She nods and off we go to deal with it.
This morning, the babe walked over to me waving her hand in the stinky poo poo motion. I asked her if she did a stinky poo poo and she nodded her head "yes". Upstairs we went, and by George, she had done a stinky poo poo. How cool is it that she notified me of her business? This is serious communication and excellent progress in the struggle to keep her diaper dry.
On another note, the babe is FINALLY 20 pounds. It took a while, but we made it. The car seat can now officially be forward facing.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Some Thoughts on Diaper Sizing
I have finally accepted that diaper sizing is inaccurate. The babe, who weighs in at whopping 18 pounds, is now in size 4 Huggies (22 to 37 pounds). She technically should just be in size 3 (16 to 28 pounds). They are wrong over there at Huggies. I don't know why it has been so hard for me to accept this. Don't they know what they're talking about? Aren't they the diaper "experts"?
I must say first off that I really admire folks who use cloth diapers. We, however, are not those folks. From the get go, I knew we'd be disposable people. It's just too much. I don't know how many diapers I change a day, but I do know I couldn't handle the extra work load cloth would add to my life. But if you're doing it, you rock.
Back to sizing. I held out on buying overnight diapers as I could only find ones starting at size 4. Last week I gave in and bought a pack of 30. I must say I am quite pleased. They are huge and they sure can fit a lot of pee. I still change her once a night as she is still waking up once a night. But one day, she will start sleeping through the night (right??), and I'll be ready because she'll be in overnight diapers that are the wrong size.
I must say first off that I really admire folks who use cloth diapers. We, however, are not those folks. From the get go, I knew we'd be disposable people. It's just too much. I don't know how many diapers I change a day, but I do know I couldn't handle the extra work load cloth would add to my life. But if you're doing it, you rock.
Back to sizing. I held out on buying overnight diapers as I could only find ones starting at size 4. Last week I gave in and bought a pack of 30. I must say I am quite pleased. They are huge and they sure can fit a lot of pee. I still change her once a night as she is still waking up once a night. But one day, she will start sleeping through the night (right??), and I'll be ready because she'll be in overnight diapers that are the wrong size.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
To Change the Diaper or Not to Change?
I am now calling on the services of all you parents out there. Do you, or did you ever do the middle of the night diaper change? I am constantly experimenting with my daughter's sleeping situation (as it's so bad) trying to find just the right balance. I'm embarrassed to admit I recently purchased a new swaddler for my 7 month old as she had outgrown every option we own. I believe that's because you're not supposed to swaddle babies at this age. The babe is an itchy scratchy kinda gal and would scratch her head off if her hands weren't tied down. She just really needs the swaddle to fall asleep and after a very bad night and hours of internet research, I found a new swaddler that looked to meet my requirements.
The Snug and Tug is a very cool swaddler that holds babies up to 28" and 22 pounds. So, we're safe for now, although the length will get dicey soon enough. The problem with this awesome swaddler is that you have to COMPLETELY remove the baby to do any kind of diaper maintenance. So, when I wrap her up all snugly at bed time, I really would like her to stay that way until at least 7:00 am. I left her wrapped up every night for about a week before we had a big 'oll leaking situation when I removed her from the swaddler in the morning. This meant the sheets had to be washed and we most likely got some pee on the mattress. Not the end of the world. But the start of some diaper rash was another development associated with the all-night diaper wearing. We don't want that.
So this week I've been trying to take her out and change the diaper when she wakes to eat in the middle of the night (that's another issue altogether). This jostling appears to wake her up and make it difficult for me to get her back to sleep which has made for some unpleasant waking periods for my husband and I. Luckily I can nap in the morning, but I can't say the same thing for my poor hubby.
Last night we added some theatrics to the middle of the night waking period when the toilet managed to overflow after one of my bathroom trips. I swear I didn't do anything in there that would warrant an all out floor flood, but alas. The baby knew there was something exciting going on and stared at the door in anticipation (of what, I'm not sure). All this ended up costing a total of 2 hours of sleep (3:15 to 5:15 am). If I hadn't tried to maneuver a stealth diaper change, perhaps I wouldn't have been awake enough to go to the bathroom and flood it.
So, if you have any middle of the night diaper changing advice, please feel free to post your thoughts. I know it's a decision only I can make as her Mother, but I'm just not sure how many more nights of experimenting I'm willing to go through before we find a solution.
The Snug and Tug is a very cool swaddler that holds babies up to 28" and 22 pounds. So, we're safe for now, although the length will get dicey soon enough. The problem with this awesome swaddler is that you have to COMPLETELY remove the baby to do any kind of diaper maintenance. So, when I wrap her up all snugly at bed time, I really would like her to stay that way until at least 7:00 am. I left her wrapped up every night for about a week before we had a big 'oll leaking situation when I removed her from the swaddler in the morning. This meant the sheets had to be washed and we most likely got some pee on the mattress. Not the end of the world. But the start of some diaper rash was another development associated with the all-night diaper wearing. We don't want that.
So this week I've been trying to take her out and change the diaper when she wakes to eat in the middle of the night (that's another issue altogether). This jostling appears to wake her up and make it difficult for me to get her back to sleep which has made for some unpleasant waking periods for my husband and I. Luckily I can nap in the morning, but I can't say the same thing for my poor hubby.
Last night we added some theatrics to the middle of the night waking period when the toilet managed to overflow after one of my bathroom trips. I swear I didn't do anything in there that would warrant an all out floor flood, but alas. The baby knew there was something exciting going on and stared at the door in anticipation (of what, I'm not sure). All this ended up costing a total of 2 hours of sleep (3:15 to 5:15 am). If I hadn't tried to maneuver a stealth diaper change, perhaps I wouldn't have been awake enough to go to the bathroom and flood it.
So, if you have any middle of the night diaper changing advice, please feel free to post your thoughts. I know it's a decision only I can make as her Mother, but I'm just not sure how many more nights of experimenting I'm willing to go through before we find a solution.
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