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My dad gave them a week. My mom snorted many a time as they came up in conversation. Hubby didn’t want to give them any time at all. Even snickers from people I barely knew. But I love them. LOVE them. These cloth diapers are fantastic.
Two girls that I emailed about their experience with cloth diapers both told me to not bother with them until Baby Chickadee was four to six weeks old, because who wants to deal with extra laundry when you’re also snuggling a tiny newborn and barely sleeping? But when the baby was about two and a half weeks old I found myself looking at my collection of cloth diapers and getting antsy to use them. Yes, antsy for cloth diapers. My twelve-year-old self is concerned for me, too.
I have the one-size cloth diapers, which means I use the same diapers from now until she’s potty-trained. Which means I have to adjust the elastic in six different places on each of my thirteen diapers every time she outgrows the size she’s in. It took a few tries to get the right combination for her but they fit her. And man do they hold in the poo.
One morning I was lying in bed with Baby Chickadee, looking at my precious blessing sleeping, when she calmly pooped one of her gigantic, blowout poos that breastfed babies are so good at. I took a moment to prepare myself for changing her diaper, changing her clothes and my sheets. And then she did it AGAIN. Another blowout poo. So I sat up, grabbed a diaper, lots of wipes and the changing pad to get down to business. When I carefully picked her up there was no poo on my hands. No poo on the back of her onesie. No poo ANYWHERE but in the diaper. Those cloth diapers are fantastic.
At Hubby’s family reunion a few weeks ago his sister-in-law asked how I’m liking them, probably not out of excited interest on her part but more as a way to start a conversation. So I pulled out a clean one and the wet bag (a handy reusable bag that holds in the stink of dirty diapers) it goes in and proceeded to show her all the ins and outs of them. As I’m showing her and my other sister-in-law I’m thinking “STOP. These girls do not care about the elastic or the absorbable inserts or the pattern on the wet bag. STOP.” But I couldn’t. I was too excited.
Then at Target one day we were perusing the baby section when another mom picked up some Huggies that were on sale and I almost told a stranger she should look into cloth diapers. And that’s when I realized I could get annoying about these things.
My dad gave them a week. My mom snorted many a time as they came up in conversation. Hubby didn’t want to give them any time at all. Even snickers from people I barely knew. But I love them. LOVE them. These cloth diapers are fantastic.
Two girls that I emailed about their experience with cloth diapers both told me to not bother with them until Baby Chickadee was four to six weeks old, because who wants to deal with extra laundry when you’re also snuggling a tiny newborn and barely sleeping? But when the baby was about two and a half weeks old I found myself looking at my collection of cloth diapers and getting antsy to use them. Yes, antsy for cloth diapers. My twelve-year-old self is concerned for me, too.
I have the one-size cloth diapers, which means I use the same diapers from now until she’s potty-trained. Which means I have to adjust the elastic in six different places on each of my thirteen diapers every time she outgrows the size she’s in. It took a few tries to get the right combination for her but they fit her. And man do they hold in the poo.
One morning I was lying in bed with Baby Chickadee, looking at my precious blessing sleeping, when she calmly pooped one of her gigantic, blowout poos that breastfed babies are so good at. I took a moment to prepare myself for changing her diaper, changing her clothes and my sheets. And then she did it AGAIN. Another blowout poo. So I sat up, grabbed a diaper, lots of wipes and the changing pad to get down to business. When I carefully picked her up there was no poo on my hands. No poo on the back of her onesie. No poo ANYWHERE but in the diaper. Those cloth diapers are fantastic.
At Hubby’s family reunion a few weeks ago his sister-in-law asked how I’m liking them, probably not out of excited interest on her part but more as a way to start a conversation. So I pulled out a clean one and the wet bag (a handy reusable bag that holds in the stink of dirty diapers) it goes in and proceeded to show her all the ins and outs of them. As I’m showing her and my other sister-in-law I’m thinking “STOP. These girls do not care about the elastic or the absorbable inserts or the pattern on the wet bag. STOP.” But I couldn’t. I was too excited.
Then at Target one day we were perusing the baby section when another mom picked up some Huggies that were on sale and I almost told a stranger she should look into cloth diapers. And that’s when I realized I could get annoying about these things.
