This Ain’t Your Mama’s Hurricane

When I was a kid we didn’t evacuate for hurricanes and, definitely, not for tropical storms.  Actually, we were happy for the breeze and rain.  Sure we had power outages, but I don’t remember them being that bad.

My first memory of any kind of evacuation was during Hurricane Andrew in the early 90′s.  I was working at a downtown hotel and they offered us rooms to ride out the storm.  I scoffed.  Why would I want to be easily accessible for the hotel to get more work out of me?  Young and dumb.  We lost power for a couple of hours after the storm.   The sun was out.  I took a nap and by the time I woke up the power was back.  The second and first actual mass exodus from NOLA was Hurricane Georges.  I had stayed with my mom and sick grandma.  We lost power before the storm and didn’t get it back until 3/4 days later.  There was no generator.  Nothing but total darkness at night and heat during the day.

My kids idea of a hurricane will be extremely different than mine.  We have evacuated for several hurricanes since 1998.  Mostly notably, Hurricane Katrina.  Our first experience with a generator would be Gustav.  To be honest the worst part of that was the mess in the house and living only downstairs.  It was not fun, but it wasn’t the worst.  What made it bearable?  The generator and window unit.  We have since “misplaced” the window unit, so we are dealing with the heat.

People, those who don’t live in these hurricane prone areas, tend to believe it is just easy to pick up, leave and then come back.  If you think sitting in hours long traffic, finding a hotel along with thousands of other people and not knowing what is going on at your house, then have at it.  For most it is a difficult decision to leave.  I am torn.  I am glad we stayed, because I was able to keep up with the driving rain that was coming in under our back doors.  I regret staying, because we are still without power and estimated time of restoration is 5-7 days away.  The main issue is financial.  We could deplete our savings and evacuate and then what happens for the next hurricane.  It is easy to say have an emergency fund.  It is hard when there could be back to back storms, so we take each one based on the information given at the time.  The NHC didn’t know what Isaac was going to do, so how do others out there know for sure what we should  have done.  People made decisions based on what happened to them during Katrina, Gustav, Ivan, etc.  We have evacuated before only to find that not a drop of rain fell.  We made the decision last minute to evacuate for Katrina, because of the information at the time.  You can make the claim that we have so much technology and you have more than enough warning to make a decision on whether to leave or stay, but nothing is perfect and many storms have proven that.  Everyone has to make the decision on their own.  I don’t think we should place blame, but show kindness and a bit of understanding.

The kids have it great compared to my experiences, as a child, without power. We have a generator, which means we can run fans, watch DVDs, charge our phones; laptops; tablet; game systems and have a light to safely guide us to the bathroom.  While we are miserable with the heat and can’t wait to have our power fully restored, it is not as bad as in years past.  Of course, the kids don’t fully understand.  Sam kept asking me why can’t do this or that. And it had to be explained over and over, again, that we didn’t have power to the house.  They don’t understand why I tell them to take a bath or not to use blankets while sleeping.  It is all in an effort to keep them cool and comfortable.

In the end, once our power is restored we will go back to our normal lives.  There will be challenges for awhile, like gas and grocery lines, longer days off of school and no parties on Labor Day.  In the grand scheme of things, it is a small price to pay compared to the price of life that some paid.  I know that the judgments are coming for these people.  I understand their dilemma and their decisions made based on previous experience, like no flooding during Katrina.  This time it was different, like the other times will be different.  Some never lost power, but that doesn’t mean they are saved from never losing power during a storm.  Some will have power restored later than others when they had their power restored earlier than most in previous storms.  We are not naive.  We know where we live and the consequences that come along with that.  There are consequences to everything in life, for some to say dumb things like they have all the answers shows their ignorance.  All I can tell those people is that if you tell me to just move from NOLA, then you don’t know what it means to miss New Orleans and you never will, because it is not simply a town.  It is a way of life and we have chosen to take the consequences because the benefits of our culture are worth it.

And for the record, I will continue to bitch until I have power restored and my a/c back.  If you tell me not to bitch, I might just tell you to shove it.  Understand that might be the heat talking or the fact that I don’t want to hear from you, because you probably have a/c.

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It is Only the First Week

The kids have gone to school for a full week, now, and the drama has already begun.

Amber is now in middle school.  This brings all kinds of new and exciting adventures, one being the locker.  Oh the excitement there was at getting a locker.  Along with the school supplies there was a whole collection of things you can get to decorate your locker.  This is where I found Amber with her eyes wide open and her mouth drooling.  What would she get?  Where would she put it?  How would these items make her locker an expression of her very being?  I sighed.  Why should I spend good money on items to make her locker look better than our house?  No problem for Amber.  My idea of giving the kids an allowance to teach them about money had backfired on me, because it gave Amber power.  She had power to buy any trinkets her heart desired to make her locker the next Taj Mahal.  Good thing her power is limited to $7.  We left Target.  Me $70 lighter in my wallet from actually school supplies, you know the things needed to help her learn, and Amber with her eyes all aglow and big at the anticipation of getting her locker at Book Day.

Then the drama.  ODD got into the car, one day, and rambled on about the injustice that is being pushed on her and “how life is not fair”.  After I slowed her down to the point where I could understand every other word, I got the story.  It appears that while the kids can decorate the inside of their lockers, they were not allowed to decorate the outside, EXCEPT for the members of the dance team.  WHAT?!  How can this be?  What Elitist regime is this where the dance team get the great privilege of decorating the outside of their lockers, but no one else?   I was assured at the end of this mini in training tangent that I need not worry my little head, because a teacher has taken up the cause and some day the rest of the kids will be able to decorate the outside of their lockers and become equal with the dance team.

Just as my blood pressure had return to normal, I was hit with another “situation” that needed to be remedied right away and the only one to remedy it was ME.  It seems that one of Amber’s locker neighbors has gone full out in the renovation process.  It was a total tear down and rebuild.  There was wallpaper, shelves, chandeliers, rugs and the finest art that one can get miniaturized.  It appears that Amber had moved into the upscale neighborhood, but her house was the last small house from the ’50′s that was never torn down to make way for the next McMansion.   I was informed that I would have to spend my days with locker designers to come up with the perfect space that expressed exactly who Amber is.  I have failed as a mother, because all I got her was a shelf, which is GENIUS, and a small pink basket that was meant for her extra pens and pencils, but instead became the holder for her hairbrush and lip balm.  Will life ever go on?

Sam has brought his own drama, but nothing that exhausts me to the point of girl drama.  Matter of fact, I was proud how well Sam took being scolded by a classmate’s father after Sam had called his son a name.  I have hopes of a drama break with Sam until Evie takes up residence in girl drama land.  I hope in my old age I will gain perspective, but I think I will just lose my ability to care.

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What the Kids Learned this Summer

There is always the concern that while kids are on summer vacation that they will forget everything they learned this summer.  I was not going to let that happen to my little special snowflakes.  They were going to go back to school filled with new knowledge.  I will admit it has been a challenge to keep pushing through with teaching my gifted children this summer.  Sure they protested, but I had to press forward.  It is for their future, right.

Here is the knowledge that the kids will go back to school with this year:

Amber:

Spidergirl lives…in my house.  Future skill, cleaning those cobwebs that I can’t reach.

Evie:

Ah, the legacy of attitude lives on.  Future skill,  she can shake her neck and wave her finger the next time someone tries to cut in front of me at Walmart.

Sam:

 

War has been playing out in my living room for days.  Don’t worry the Disney Princesses have been on hand to take care of all injuries. Future skill, warfare, of course.  Although, I hope he eventually learns that tanks don’t fly and dinosaurs don’t usually take part in war.

Yes, it has been a knowledge filled summer, but it has come to an end.  The kids, minus Evie, will be off to school, soon, and I will learn what it is like to have a clean house for more than 5 minutes and what those people are saying on TV.

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Vacation, a State of Mind?

It is summertime, so you know what that means?  The summer vacation stories are coming out of the mouths of neighbors, friends, and moms of your kids’ classmates.  There are stories of cruises, beaches and lands far, far away.  I listen with a smile on my face to hide my all encompassing envy.  This will be year number 3 of no vacation for us.  It really should be number 4, but we bit the bullet and took a vacation in 2009 for a family wedding and reunion.  I know in the grand scheme of things this is pretty low on the pity list.  And in the grand scheme of things our life this summer is not bad.

To be totally honest I don’t know if I really want a vacation.  Now, I should admit that if someone offered great childcare so that SoHubby and I could go on a fabulous no cares vacation I would be drooling and packed before they could say, “The kids are fine.”  That is a long shot.  Any vacation right now would involve cranky kids, a husband connected to electronic gadgets and one stressed out mom.  Which makes me think that we have been conditioned to WANT a vacation.  Who really wants to pack for 5 people, cram everyone into a car for hours, listen to kids fight over who didn’t touch whom and then do it in reverse with the prize being a mountain of laundry.  Sure there are good times to be had in between, but is it worth the money, time and aggravation to take this freak show on the road?  I say, NO.

My goal for summer, as the kids have gotten older. is to keep them just busy enough as to not want to kill each other.  At the point of wanting to shove the kids in their rooms for the rest of their lives, we are off to a schedule activity or the pool.  Oh the pool, it has miracle powers.  It makes children stop fighting and tired.  Some have said our schedule is crazy.  I say it is the only thing keeping us sane.  We have cabbage ball (it is larger than a softball and hirlarious to watch small children run around like crazed research monkeys who just escaped from the lab), Ta Kwon Do (where small children beat the hell out of each other), gymnastics (the de-energizer) , and library storytime (aka another adult entertains your child while you play on your smartphone).  Then there is the glorious pool.  I joined the fitness center for the pool.  You could easily kill 2/3 hours at the pool and not even blink.  The pool is the saving grace of summer.  The bonus is that if I can throw myself out of bed early enough in the morning, I can have a couple of hours of childfree time.  You would be amazed what an hour on the treadmill watching Will and Grace can do for your mood.  It is no Disney cruise, but our schedule full of activities is making summer much less torture chamber bidding time before school starts and more I can’t kill you today, because it is POOL TIME!

I don’t know how the kids feel about any of this.  I think Amber is the only one that really remembers us taking regular vacations.  Although, Amber and Sam both talk about the family reunion in Tennessee often.  Sam is heavily influenced by the commercials.  I simply pat him on the head and say maybe someday we will go to Atlantis.  Evie has no clue.  I think her first real hotel stay was our recent cheer competition in Biloxi, MS.  That sets the bar really low for her.  It does hurt some to tell the kids that we won’t be doing Disney anytime soon, but look at the stuff I have to distract them with.  The one thing I can say with certainty is that their summers are a 100 times better than any of my summers as a kid.  So we will stay home and keep with our activity heavy schedule to keep us busy during the summer.  If you pass me and wonder what is behind that smile on my face, just know that I am thinking no packing, no mountainous laundry, no long car rides with screaming kids, no cranky off routine kids and I get to sleep in my own bed at night.  It isn’t quite the same as a beach front condo on the beach of Destin, but I know for sure I won’t be eaten by a shark.

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Rules for an Enjoyable Summer.

I considered the title of Summer Rules, but then you would think I have lost my damn mind.  No, these are rules for my children so that they can have an enjoyable summer and I can make it through summer without my eye twitching uncontrollably.

1. SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!  Look, I went through this with my parents and, now, it is your turn.  Just for the sake of all our sanity shut the freaking door.  It isn’t really that hard and you will save the screaming…at the lizards and frogs that seem to think an opened door is an invitation to come on in and make themselves at home. If I have to come eye to eye with a lizard when I sit down on the sofa to relax, I am going to go homicidal.  On the lizard, of course.

2. Clean up after yourselves.  It is not that hard.  No one cleaned up after you at school and no one will do it at home for you.  What am I? Your mother?  Oh wait!…Scratch that.  I am not your maid, so if you keep missing your mouth while eating or drinking then clean it up.  Summer will be much better without me having a coronary everytime you spill something.

3. Just know that since I gave birth to you and you are at an age where you are capable of doing certain things that means you are my slave.  I know, I know, the Constitution outlawed slavery, but what the government doesn’t know won’t hurt me.  And let’s be honest here, I am doing the bulk of the workload, anyway.  I don’t need to add an hour long discussion on the merits of you taking out the trash to my workload.  Take it out and then you can plant your butt back on the sofa and watch your show while I  continue EVERYTHING ELSE THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE!

4. When I say enough with the My Little Pony show or any other show.  I mean ENOUGH!  There are only a handful of shows that make me want to go sit on the nearest cliff during the windy season and MLP is one of them.  I have enough screeching, whiny little creatures in real life, I don’t need to watch them on TV, too.  And Pinkie Pie needs to go away.  I don’t care where she goes, but either she can go away or get punched in the throat.

5. When I say NO, it is not a signal for you to keep asking me until my head splits in 2 and scream, ” I SAID NO!”.  No means no, even when it is said to child from parent.

6. If I tell you that we can’t go swimming this week, just leave it at that unless you want a lesson in the workings of the female body.  And walking away saying, “OH mom must be on her period” due to the fact that I just yelled at you, “NO MEANS NO!”, doesn’t help the situation.  Just know that soon you will be dealing with the same thing and I have a blog where I can enact my revenge.

7. No cracking out the kids!  This one is for SoHubby.  It is NOT 1978, which means there are other alternatives to Kool Aid to give our children.  I know you think it is funny to get them all jumpy on sugar and leave for work, but just know I have my own form of torture that I can dole out.  See number 6.

8.  If you would like to get home quick from grocery shopping, then don’t whine, complain and fart around while we are grocery shopping.  Making me remind you a million times not to stand directly behind or in front of the shopping cart, to stay with me, or to hurry up picking a toy that you just have to spend your money on takes up precious time that could have been spent racing around throwing random items into the basket so we can go home.

9. Don’t say you are bored, if you don’t want me to make you unbored.  I guarantee that whatever task I give you will be much more painful, in your mind, than the current boredom you are experiencing.  Look, there are baseboards to be cleaned, cabinets to be wiped down, extra school work that can be done, etc that will make that boredom seem like paradise.

10. There will be down days and super busy days.  The less complaining from you ensures we all have a fun summer.  I know all your friends are going on luxury vacations and having the time of your lives while you are stuck here with your parents and siblings, but it is the hand that you have been dealt so just deal with it.  You can always dream of the day when you move out of our house and do all those fun things we never let you do.  Oh and when you are daydreaming about how great your life will be once you are on your own, don’t forget to daydream that great fun job you got without any hard work where you make a ton of money.

Love,

Mom

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We Don’t Speak the Same Language

SoHubby and I have been married for 11 years this October and have known each other for 13 years.  You would think that we would understand each other, maybe even finish each other’s sentences.  You would be wrong.

Since Sam has, finally, started his own activity (something that SoHubby is really happy he is doing) SoHubby has asked what is our schedule.  This is not to say that he is not interested in Amber’s activities, but her schedule has been about the same for about a year.  We are, also, coming to the end of the school year so things are changing once again.  One thing about kids change is constant.

I tried to explain the schedule, but it didn’t get through.  I will say my fault in this was giving too much information.  Instead of just giving the schedule for right now, I tried to give the schedule for the summer.  That is difficult, because Sam will start Cabbage ball in mid June which will mess with Tae Kwon Do which just made matters worse.  Once I realized my mistake I thought I would make it simple by  pointing to the dry erase calendar I bought specifically for this purpose.  It still didn’t get through.  The calendar, in SoHubby’s words, is hard to understand.  I guess it is because the writing is small (I only have so much room to work with) and I put the things that happen on a weekly basis at the bottom with the day and time next to them.  The kids and I seem to get it, but SoHubby didn’t.  So to help him understand it, he took a pad and wrote the days of the week and then wrote what happened on those days.

All of this got me thinking.  We have always had a problem with communication.  I won’t blame either side.  SoHubby says things and they are clear in his head, but I am left confused.  I say things that are totally clear to me and the rest of the free world, but leave him confused.  I will fully admit that SoHubby will say things and I will promptly forget them.  Hey, have you seen our schedule?  I have a lot going on. I just wonder if this goes on in other homes or after a decade together people just understand their mates better than we do?

I, also, wonder if I really want someone that knows what I am thinking.  I often say that my head is a scary place to be.  I know I definitely don’t want to be privy to what is rattling around in SoHubby’s head, because what he tells me is scary enough.  It will be interesting to see how our communication has developed after we have been together over 20 years.

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Soft Kitty

It all started on that faithful New Year’s Eve night when every kid was spewing their guts all over the house while I pushed on with the New Year Cheer.  We are not big Dick Clark fans, so we had chosen The Big Bang Theory, which happened to be in marathon mode, as the background noise to our chorus of vomit.

I will admit I had tried watching the show several times before and never got it.  Frankly, Sheldon reminded me a little of Sam in his most annoying times.  I watch TV to escape, not to relive similar events to my daily life.  But it kept the kids happy while I went between cleaning vomit and making appetizers as our traditional New Year’s Eve meal.  Sounds delish, doesn’t it?

That was the day we all would fall for the science hilarity that is The Big Bang Theory.  Now, Amber will often break into an intimation of Mrs. Wolowitz.  While Evie exclaims that Sheldon is her favorite.  And, of course, we all know the words to Soft Kitty:

 

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Sam’s Bedroom

Sam, finally, got his birthday present.  It was only a few months late.

Sam came home to 4 white walls and the only crib set I could stomach.  I never knew how hard it was to decorate for a boy, especially, when I hadn’t met him, yet.  I remember standing in front of that wall of crib bedding at Babies R Us.  Did I like the dinosaurs?  Nah.  Did I like the cars?  Meh, Did I like the baseball theme?  UH, NO!  SoHubby was going to go for the flower one, so I, finally,  settled on the baby jungle theme.  Everyone loves baby jungle animals, right?  So that was Sam’s room for 5 yrs: white walls, a couple of shelves, a dresser, and a crib/toddler bed.  It took the third kid to figure out I didn’t need a whole bedding set.  They just cause trouble, anyway.

It was the perfect time to decorate Sam’s room: 1. He was 5 yrs old and needed to get out of his crib/toddler bed.  and 2. I had gotten to know him, so I knew what he wanted.  His room is a superhero/Star Wars theme.  I have been corrected many times when I mentioned his room is a Superhero room only to be told that Star Wars is not superhero.  Yeah, whatever.

The easy part was telling Sam all about his room.  The hard part was actually doing the room.  I have a fear of painting.  Throughout the months I gathered posters, frames, bedding, curtains, and paint samples.  Oh Lord, the paint samples!  While I have a fear of painting, which includes picking out the color, SoHubby, on the other hand, has no fear of paint samples.  When we were deciding on a color for our living room he would bring home handfuls of paint samples everyday.  After awhile, all the colors blended together.  I still don’t know what you call the color of our living room, but I know we can call it finished.

Then at the end of summer I had got the courage to buy 2 paint samples.  It would take me another few weeks to get the courage to actually put them on the wall.  Once you put that sample on the wall that’s it, you must commit to painting the whole thing.

It seems fitting that one massive storm inhibited us from preparing for Sam like we did with Amber, but another (not so massive) storm would get our butts in gear.  Since we were all stuck home because of tropical storm Lee, I decided to bite the bullet and paint the room.  There were many trips to Home Depot.  Me letting go and trusting people, who you know do this kind of thing all the time.  And SoHubby actually being trapped at home to help me.  I was shocked that it took only a couple of hours to paint the room.  Once that was done, we were off and running.  There was some mishaps with those Command Strip things, which just forced us to go old school and use nails.  Here is Sam’s room pretty much done.  If anyone can suggest where I can find a slightly more big boy lamp shade, I can call the room officially done.

The entrance.
These are pictures from the movie How to Train a Dragon.
Seem fitting that dragons would protect his room.

Sam’s new bed, curtains, Yoda clock (on the shelf), superhero posters nicely framed
And, of course, a Clone Trooper helmet to round things out.
The Clone Trooper helmet is actually from one of the many Halloween
costumes I got on sale.

A closer look at the posters.  He got Spiderman and Transformer bedding.
As you can see my son doesn’t sleep under the comforter, but ontop with his
fleece blanket.
I really do like the paint color.  I think it highlights the posters well.

The other side of the room and my favorite Spiderman poster.
That is Bumblebee’s helmet.
We have a Bobo Fett helmet, but for some reason it scares Sam at night, or so he says.  I have to say I never thought, I would call to my son and demand that he takes his Bobo Fett helmet to his room, because “it doesn’t belong in the playroom”. Yeah, life is kind of surreal with kids.

You can see the offending lamp shade.  Such a small detail that gives me fits.
I think I made up for it with the reusable wall stickers of Ben 10 Ultimate Alien Force. Don’t ask me anymore about Ben 10, because I have told you all I know and I get yelled at, because “I have told you a million times, mom.  Why can’t you remember?”  These stickers are a source of entertainment for Sam and SoHubby.
And when I say entertainment, I mean war of how the stickers should be applied.
Amber, Sam and SoHubby put the stickers on the wall.  There was much disagreement where certain ones should go.  Now, SoHubby will move a sticker only to have Sam come behind him and move it back.

And my favorite, the giant Anakin Skywalker wall sticker. It took a bit to put up, but I did it.  The best part, his lightsaber glows in the dark.  That alone should win me the Coolest Mom award.
These wall stickers are so cool and I love them. I can’t wait to use these when I redo the girls’ room, which won’t be until Evie is in a twin bed.  If history as taught us anything that won’t be for another 3 years.

And as a bonus we got these smaller stickers.  Sadly, the little lightsabers don’t glow, but I think that would be asking too much.

I am so happy we, finally, got Sam’s room done. It feels like it is truly his room, now.

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I’ve Ruined My Son

During the summer there is always the chance of a lizard, clear lizard (someone said they weren’t geckos, but I don’t know what the hell they are) or frogs coming into the house.  It is a little frog party on our front door everynight, so I made a rule to come in through the garage.  I am always screaming at the kids and SoHubby to shut the doors so nothing comes in.  I HATE LIZARDS, FROGS and, especially, those CLEAR LIZARDS.

Earlier this week I was cleaning and thought there was a thread on the sofa.  When I went to look at it closer I realized it was a lizard.  So I freaked the FUCK  OUT! and ran to get SoHubby.  He works behind the house in an office.  He tore the sofa apart, but we never found the lizard. So I just hoped that some how it got out of the house.  FAT CHANCE!!

Today, Amber walks by the barstools and screams.  They have been messing with me since I saw the lizard, so naturally I thought she was trying to scare me without reason.  I told her to stop playing around and she said, “NO, THERE HE IS!!”.  Sonofabitch, of course when SoHubby isn’t home.  So Sam and I chase this damn thing around while Amber screams from the playroom.  Evie is still just playing in the living room looking up every now and then to see what the fuss is all about.  AMber gets on the phone to see when SoHubby might be home; in an hour.  No help!!  However, he says to tell Sam to just pick it up by the tail and throw it outside.  Yeah, right!!  After me yelling and screaming everytime I see what I think is a lizard he is going to just casually pick it up and throw it outside.  I have taught my son, and the rest of the kids, to scream at anything that moves in the house.  Besides, SoHubby won’t even touch a lizard.  I have to hand it to Sam, though,  he helped me the most by moving furniture, curtains, toys, etc. and came up with the idea to shoot it with water to chase it out the door.  We don’t want to kill it (yeah, I don’t need that mess); we just want them out of the house.  So basically, I have made my kids, especially Sam, scared of lizards.  Something that little boys should be chasing around torturing (OUTSIDE!).  On the bright side, I doubt I will be finding anything nasty in his pockets.

Note:  Before anyone starts thinking I am some little bitch, I will kill bugs and dispose of them without help.  Although, the kids will scream at the tiniest bug.  Yeah, I kind of ruined them in that way.  The rest of the stuff is…well, not my fault.

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Cloth Diaper Burnout

I have a terrible confession to make.  I don’t even know how to say it.  Okay, here it goes….I AM TIRED OF WASHING DIAPERS!  Do I feel better?  Not particularly, because I know there are people out there doing their little smug “I told you so” dances.

Evie has been in cloth diapers since she was 3 months old.  I pushed through the blow outs with the prefolds until I got it right.  I pushed through the leaking of the one size pocket diapers until I got it right.  I had my washing routine down.  Then a few things started happening that put a damper on cloth diapers for me.  The first, and major, problem was the washing machine.  It is leaking and no one knows why.  SoHubby looked at it, although all that included was him lifting it up to discover there was nothing to see.  We called, and paid, a service guy to come out.  All he could tell me was that maybe I was putting too many items in the washer at once.  To which I reply, “Why the hell did I get a washer with an extra large option if it doesn’t hold extra large loads?”  Both men, SoHubby and repair man, blinked and stared at me until I threw up my hands and walked out.  To the great delight of the repair man, who doesn’t know why the washer is leaking or where the water is coming from, the guts of the washer still look good.  So when he called to ask if his brilliant advice of smaller loads (which puts a real cramp into my laundry routine) worked, I simply said, “I am going to wear this MUTHA out until it breaks completely.”  Or something to that effect.  In the mean time every time I do a load of laundry I get the equivalent of a small Mississippi River in my laundry room.  Since I don’t have something called a French drain (I assuming this is a drain that smokes cigarettes and doesn’t understand my silly American ways) I have been laying beach towels in the leaking spots and letting the river flow.  Not something I suggest to our civil engineers currently working on the rising Mississippi River problem.

Next I have been feeling overwhelmed lately.  I can’t pinpoint one thing exactly just a rush of little to major things going on that have been occupying my time to the point that if I have to dunk a poopy diaper in the toilet and run the washer 4 times at night then the dryer twice I might just go insane.  Another problem plaguing me is that my diapers are showing wear.  I guess if I was placed on a spewing butt daily for almost 2 years I would show some wear, too.  Heed my warning dear ladies, who are looking into cloth diapers, get the snaps.  Velcro is good until it is bad.  Also, they are stained.  Not that they are stained on the outside that you would see Evie and say, “GOOD GOD! What did that child sit in.”, but more on the inside where you wonder are these clean or not.  It isn’t for a lack of trying to get my diapers sparkling white, again, just Evie has had some toxic sludge doing in that region, lately.  Note: No raisins for her.  The aftermath is not pretty.

I have done the most heinous thing since I signed the cloth diaper contract, I have used disposable diapers from time to time.  This last time for 4 weeks.  It has been our little secret, but as what happens with all secrets, we were found out.  It was okay to use the disposable diapers when Evie had some rash that only Boudreaux’s  could handle.  That hippy dippy stuff made especially for cloth diapers was burning her butt, so I decided to go with the tried and true original butt paste.  Then there was the yeast that had taken up residence in the diapers that I practically needed an exorcism to remove.  After all that we were on our way until I found Target disposable diapers plus $1 off coupons.  It was a struggle, but I kept up with the cloth diapers, because that $14 could get me a few gallons of gas, right?  Then one day as I found a dirty diaper stuffed in the back almost behind the washer that I snapped and bought the devil of all crunchy mamas, disposable diapers.

I am coming to the end of the last box of disposable diapers and I am at a crossroads.  Do I buy another box, do I just hunker down and continue with the cloth diapers or should I take my own advice and just do both.  If you were a normal human being then you would just do what fits you at this moment in time and not worry about the rest, but I am me and I must torture myself until I am rocking in a corner mutter “cloth diapers” over and over to myself.  And don’t think potty training my 22 month old hasn’t crossed my mind, but if her siblings are any indication she is not ready.  Never mind the size issue.  Evie would have to wear a life preserver just to attempt to sit on the toilet at this point.  And remember the old saying, “don’t do anything that you don’t want to explain to the paramedics.”  So I think I will bite the bullet and take the heat and go through the stash of diapers, throw out the really worn ones and buy a DAMN! box of disposable diapers for when we are out and about.  Hey, I can always say, the summer is coming up and we will be home a majority of the time.  That would work, right?  Oh. Whatever! Go ahead.  Do your stupid “I told you so” dance!

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