Boy, oh Boy!

Yes, you guessed it right. It's a boy, which is just as well, because today I had the typical Mommy guilt moment. I opened a long-forgotten notebook to realize it was supposed to be - horror of horrors - the log book of my second pregnancy written for the child. Ha! I made one for Bombie but lost track of this one. Yeah, yeah, I feel guilty. But you know what, chances are he won't even care. I mean, it IS a boy. So there.

So maybe the old wives' tales are true. There is a lot of collective wisdom in old age after all. And true to the legend, I haven't gained an ounce of weight. (I've actually lost 6 pounds since I got pregnant.) And all my weight is in my stomach. I was showing at close to four months; with Bombie I didn't show until seven months! Also, unlike with Bombie when I was looking very haggard and tired, with this one, I'm glowing. Ah, thank God! I'm actually GLOWING!!! He also looks like a big football. I was telling James (sorry for the PG-13 joke in advance) that I have a little weeny inside me. LOL. All you neo-Freudians draw whatever conclusions you wish now!

That's it. I'm definitely done.

Unless of course just before I turn 35 I think I want another. Hmmm...

Today's the Day!

All right... it's here! The day I've been counting down to for about 20 weeks or so now. I'm finally halfway through the pregnancy and today I get to find out if the baby is a boy or girl. Of course, this is a secondary concern to be addressed after making sure the baby is healthy. (And I'm also secretly hoping the radiologist will say, "Twenty weeks? Heck no. You're more like 22 weeks, hon." Ah, the hopes and dreams of someone with a full bladder and uterus!)

So for all my so-called psychic abilities, I've had one - read O-N-E - dream about the gender and this was waaay back in the week I conceived. I dreamt that the two (Bombie and her sibling) looked like twins, except they were different genders. So we'll see if it's true!

Oh, I can barely wait!!!

The Switch

We survived our first evening with cloth diapers! Cheers! Frankly, sometimes I wonder what the big deal is (or was! Because I was part of the "I could never do THAT group.)

Like most people I know, using cloth diapers seems a little extreme. Ewww... you're going to wash poop? Well, actually when Bombie was really tiny and exclusively breastfed, I did wash poop off her clothes. So it's not THAT different.

Here's the new routine: I'm using the regular 3 ply prefold Gerber diapers which I bought from Amazon. I have now mastered the angel fold and use pins to fasten the sides. Someone said pins are actually easier than Snappies and I'm pretty sure my mother used pins. I still recall how they looked, so there's a little nostalgia there I'm indulging. Then, she gets vinyl pants (also Gerber, also from Amazon) to cover.

We have a bucket in the bathroom with baking soda and water in it. For diapers that are just wet, they get thrown in just like that. The poopy ones are a little more work. Poop goes into the toilet and then the diapers get swished around in the toilet (after flushing, of course!) and then rinsed in the sink. Then they go into the diaper pail. I intend washing them every other day. We have 24. I think they'll last.

So far, Bombie has noticed no difference. If anything, I love how dry she is and how unchafed her skin looks when she is being changed. Lately it seemed like she had a rash every other day. She gets that from her father - James cannot stand any humidity at all.

All in all, I think this is a good change. It's saving money for sure. Bombie's diapers were costing about $30 a month, even with generic brands. With the new baby, it would be much higher. I just can't justify $50 in diapers every month. Plus, she's only going to get bigger and the bigger sizes cost more. Oh, also they say air-drying diapers makes them last longer. And that fits perfectly in my budget and lifestyle.

So far, my experience has been great. I give cloth diapers two thumbs up!

Bombie can Stand!!!

... and she likes to show it off as well!

The Diaper Hunt Continues...

We've survived our first diarrhea. And by "we" I mean the collective family. Bombie has survived a rash, James has survived lifting her off her high chair dripping diaper and all (ewww... squinch up your nose, there you go!) and I have survived changing six diapers that smelled like a rat had died inside them in a day and using so much Desitin my hands had begun to get a permanent smell.

But she's fine now. It only lasted a day. A very, very long day.

Anyway, the reason I open with all this nasty information is that I'm switching to cloth diapers this month. I've had it with the disposables. She's had five rashes in an eleven month period and besides the idea of never having to buy diapers again is just so tempting. Especially with a second one on the way, I can't justify spending close to $50 a month on something that's going to get thrown away!

So I've been researching online and the options are just mind-boggling. And no, I'm not going to buy the $9 a diaper kind either. Just how does that SAVE any money? Nope. We're going the old-fashioned route. Pins and all. It was good enough for me as a baby and it should be good enough for Bombie.

Gee... suddenly, I sound very, very old.

What Blog is This?

I just made a few changes to the HTML heading of this blog and also instructed Google not to crawl it. OMG. It seems to be going against the grain of everything I've been trying to do since I first got into blogging, but I think it's better this way. That way this blog remains one of the last places on the internet I can remain "invisible" or "hidden" while still writing for the sheer joy of it. I'm leaving this blog out of the commercial space I write other blogs in. So there.

I feel better now...

Also, I'm not going to restrict myself to writing only about babies and diapers in the hope that someday my limited SEO will pan out and a small (but huge, so huge) piece of the four million inquiries of "babies" Google receives daily (!) will be directed to my website. Ho-hum. I'm doing that on my other blogs and frankly can't care less about starting another one.

So, if you're a reader, welcome. This is now my cozy space and best of all it's private. Yay!

Oh Baby Baby!

I recently went in for my three hour gestational diabetes testing. I know, I should have just skipped the one hour and gone for the longer one because I always fail the one hour. When both your parents are diabetic, you just expect it. Also when both your parents are diabetic, you also research everything you can about it and count every ounce of sugar and carbohydrates that enter your system. I mention all this before I enter into the tirade against the hospital.

Here were my numbers: fasting - 100 (5 points over); 1 hour - 169 (9 points over); 2 hours - 135 (5 points over); 3 hours - 97 (3 points under). if you ask me, those are pretty good numbers. I had an off day for fasting, but even non-diabetics are excused for one day of odd fasting numbers and where I went over was just by a few digits. No cause for alarm. And definitely not time for an intervention.

But I get a call the next day from the hospital saying I have gestational diabetes with someone reading me a script about what it means and that I am going to meet with a nutritionist and a nurse and have a blood meter ordered and this and that. Now I'm not a conspiracy theorist by a long shot, but I'm beginning to have some empathy for them. I said I have a blood meter and would use the same one. They said no, we're going to order you a new one and by the way there's a co-pay of $65. Hello? Am I the customer here or not? Are you really working in my best interest?

Also, they have a class I have to attend on Thursday afternoon. And so it goes. Besides the fact that they're going to employ a social worker to ask me if my husband beats me. (Because stress can cause gestational diabetes, get it?) I mean, seriously, this has gone far enough. You give them an inch and they want to take over your life.

By the time this was over, this gestational diabetes "help" I would get would end up costing me close to $250 (including co-pays, meters, babysitting, etc.) and a lot of heartache and stress for something I could do on my own!

So after a few minutes of handwringing and bitching on my part, James says, Why don't you call them and refuse? You are the customer. You can decline to meet with the dietician; you already know how to manage it on your own and did it very successfully the last time. Hmmm... never thought of that. I called back and declined. And the next day, they still call me and say, but we put in an order for lancets and test strips for you. Conspiracy theory, anyone? Hospitals are big business and the standards for supposedly good health and made higher and higher so you just can't get there without drugs.

I'm just sick of this whole game. I just want to have this baby already!